"Alliances - Part One"
Introducing - Victor Garber as Jack Archer
Apartment #301, New York City
Monday, 5th September 2005
9:30am
The mangled body of a woman lay in a pool of her own blood.
Jack Archer coughed, covering his mouth with his handkerchief as the putrid stench of death permeated his nostrils. “How long has she been here?” he choked, having to leave the confinement of the small room as the smell of decaying flesh became overwhelming.
The aide followed him out and into the hallway. “About a week. She was supposed to be on vacation. The building super found her after the neighbours complained of the smell.” The aide handed Jack an envelope containing a series of photographs depicting similar scenes of violence and death.
“In total there’s been thirteen deaths like this one in the past month. The police have no leads yet except that it looks like a serial killer. Each victim had their limbs either dismembered or mangled and their heart cut out. They also had similar flesh wounds like these…” the aide directed Jack to a specific photo.
“This looks like Belzar’s work all right,” said Jack, his face turning more rigid than usual in an effort to fight down the nausea. “He must be a fool, defying the treaty like this; he knows civilian territory is strictly out of bounds. Alert Beta section immediately, tell them I’ll be in Virginia by 10pm tonight.”
******
The Alliance Headquarters, Virginia
Monday, 5th September 2005
10:00pm
Jack Archer paced the length of the vast boardroom with haste. He was anxious to meet with the head of Security section. If Belzar had already left New York there was no telling where he might have taken his brand of wholesale carnage by now.
Suddenly the door opened and two middle aged men entered followed by a short Marakka demon.
“Ah Jack, please, sit down,” said the first man, gesturing towards a seat.
“Lothar, Samir, thank you for meeting me so urgently,” said Jack formally as he seated himself.
“We have some good news for you,” continued Lothar as they settled at the desk, “We located the subject you requested. He’s currently in Los Angeles.”
*Anywhere but there!* Jack thought dismally. He had avoided LA like it were a leper colony for the past twenty years and he didn’t have any desire to return. Outwardly he kept his expression as blank and tight lipped as usual. “Are you sure?” he asked flatly.
“Very sure Sir,” said the Marakka demon turning to face Jack, “I’ve been tracking Belzar for sometime. After the series of murders in Washington DC and New York he appeared to have vanished, then I found him again in Las Vegas.”
The demon pulled a file out from under his jacket and tossed it across the table towards Jack. “I received Intel earlier this morning. This time it was a Russian Diplomat, they found his dismembered corpse in the restroom at Caesar’s Palace. Not only that but his heart had been cut out, just like all the others.”
“This demon is one sick son of a bitch,” muttered Jack under his breath.
“Well, yeah, so I got one of my best trackers to follow the target from Vegas and that’s how we know he’s in LA. No doubt The Order will protect him.”
“You must be careful Jack,” warned Samir. He carefully removed his glasses and cleaned them thoroughly before replacing them on his face.
Jack rose from his chair in surprise. “Me? You want me to go to LA and eliminate Belzar? Why not just get one of our Californian agents to make the hit?”
“He’s your case subject Jack,” Lothar reminded him, “You know more about his moves and the way he thinks than anyone else in the Alliance. Belzar defied the treaty, that makes him a target now. Think you can handle it?”
Jack’s face became immovable again and he pursed his lips together in an expression of repressed contempt. "Of course,” Jack pushed his chair back noisily, “I’ll set out to Los Angeles as soon as I can.” He lowered his head respectfully and then turned to leave the room.
“And Jack?” called out Lothar, turning in his chair to face him, “Be careful. Belzar may very well be an irrational fool but he’s also one of the Five. The Order may be prepared to kill to defend one of their own.”
Jack nodded in understanding and quietly closed the door behind him.
“What’s his problem?” mumbled Samir in irritation.
Lothar still continued to stare at the door long after Jack had passed through it. “Old ghosts,” he replied.
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Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
August 30, 2005
Harrison Arkansas doesn’t quite rate with the smallest towns in this country, but it’s up there. The population doesn’t clear beyond four digits. And among those few people, somewhere in the vicinity of sixty percent are retirees who stay there because it’s a quiet place where they can end their lives in relative peace. That’s the best feature of Harrison. The quiet.
This may well be the single biggest reason that Tyler Hyatt hated this town. All this quiet made it next to impossible to do anything without getting noticed. In particular, if that anything was to lead a pursuer who was intent on killing Tyler on a long chase before circling back and closing him in a trap. But on that note, there was one redeeming virtue to this hellhole.
Harrison is covered in trees. And trees, as such, are very useful when .45 ACP rounds go whizzing past your ear, fired out of the business end of a government issue sound suppressor attached to a Colt M1911A. And as it flew past Tyler hit the ground and put his left shoulder to a tree.
This game had gone on long enough. So Tyler jumped and grabbed onto a tree limb.
His pursuer was a man named Michael Flatten. Mike, as Tyler called him, was a capable tracker and fine soldier. So there’d be no dawdling with this one.
Michael approached the tree checking the slide marks from Tyler’s evasive moves. Then he heard the noise and saw the signs. It was too late before he could look up.
The weight of Tyler’s body came crashing onto Mike’s, sending the Irishman to the ground. And, just as Tyler had planned, Michael dropped his gun. Tyler picked it up and drew his Sig in one motion, training both weapons onto Michael’s head.
“A Colt? How many times did I tell you Mike? Sig Sauer. Always Sig Sauer,” Tyler huffed out frustration at his pursuer.
And Mike quickly noted the sadness in his tone. "Sorry, Ty. I keep forgetting.”
“You shouldn’t have come here Mike.”
“Wasn’t after you.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I was supposed to bring Ryan in.”
Tyler’s heart skipped a beat, just as Mike’s words were finished. The man he held continued, relaying information. And when he was done, Tyler put his own gun away, sticking the Sig back in his coat. Then he pulled the trigger on the Colt.
September 2, 2005, 12:05 am
Nighttime in the city of Boston was relatively tame, compared to what you’ll find in some places. The lights of the city are pedestrian when compared to those of Las Vegas, Atlantic City, or even San Francisco. Combine that with smog and some nasty inclement weather, and the view above the city is nothing to goggle over.
But the view, from within the city or above it, was not why Tyler had come here. He’d come because Mike had told him this would be the place where Tyler would find his former pupil, Ryan Michaels. It should have been no more than a day, Mike said, before Tyler had the kid.
Now it had been twice that, and Tyler had nothing. He’d scoured the city top to bottom, leaving no stone unturned, no corner undusted, and it had all been a waste of time. There was no sign of Ryan Michaels. So now Tyler sat in the middle of a dive the like of which has never been seen with only the drunken rambling of an M’Fasknik with an Irish accent to keep him from stewing over this, and flying back to Chicago to eat his old friend’s face. Or something on those lines.
“Glarbing…..then I caught a train to LA…”
Doing his best to ignore the plastered demon, Tyler focused himself on the mug filled with shitty coffee in front of him. He’d have loved a whiskey, but to have one would mean throwing out that two year AA chip Tyler took off a drunk at the Mardi Gras parade in New Orleans six months ago.
Seemed the thing to do, since he was fucking trashed.
Despite Tyler’s clear annoyance, the demon continued his rambling. He was a demon after all. Why should he care about some human.
“And *hic* the first thing that happens is some g….drags me to this place called the Beazor…”
Tyler stopped and took a moment to imagine how things could possibly be worse.
“And right there, in the middle of the damn arena, I find the little fucker. He’s all bumpy faced, and swinging that damn sword around. I’m like who are you, that guy, with the sword and the Z’s?”
Zorro, you stupid demon.
The bartender, a short, fat, war junkie type with one arm, listened intently and replied, “The Scarlet Horsemen?”
“Yeah,” the demon slurred the word so much it sounded like a belch.
Good lord. Frustration made Tyler impatient, as the demon rambled on.
“Anyway, this vamp, he whacks the other guy’s head off with this old timey chink sword. And I’m like ‘Whoa'. 'Cause most of my kind kill vamps easy.” The M’Fashnik took the last of whatever he was drinking and poured it on his arm, which Tyler only just noticed had been skewered by something.
“Whoa.” The bartender showed off his conversationalist side.
“Yeah. **hic** So I go after the guy - he gives me this, then grabs his head and apologizes.” Neither the bartender nor the demon noticed when Tyler made his way out of the bar. As the door closed, Tyler heard the final ramblings of the demon.
“That LA’s one weird place. Me, I’ll stay east from here out.” The demon caught the bartender’s look.
“That guy didn’t pay.”
*****
September 5, 2002
Tyler sat up on a train, shaken out of sleep by a rattling in the tracks.
Dozed off. Doesn’t pay to.
Not only had Tyler dozed, he’d dreamt. The incident in Harrison played back in his mind, this being the third time since it occurred five days ago. Mike had been a friend to Tyler’s once, but in the biting winter air it was kill or be killed that night.
It didn’t have to be.
Tyler pushed that thought ruthlessly from his mind. After all, it would all be coming to an end soon. But there was still a ways to go.
The train wouldn’t come to LA for four more hours.
The Ministry Arrives
Friday, 2 September 2005 - 4pm
Introducing Kevin Spacey As Michael Gemmel & Diane Keaton As Amy Merrivale
The air was filled with the roaring of engines and the grey smog that seemed to be a permanent fixture in L.A.'s skyline. Amy tapped her foot restlessly to the muffled beat of music blasting from a nearby vending cart and wondered idly how any person in their right mind would want to eat a hotdog that was probably covered in a million different germs from its exhaust-filled surroundings.
*Bloody hell, it's hot.* Amy dabbed at the perspiration trickling down her face, uncomfortably aware that similar rivulets were streaking down her back, blotching what had been a crisp, cotten shirt and turning it into a soggy mess. *Why is it commercial flights never arrive on time?* She scanned the masses of people scurrying around impatiently, wondering if she'd missed her associates altogether.
The two men who walked out of the airport terminal blended in perfectly with the rest of the jostling crowd and no one paid them any heed.
Amy walked towards the two men. "Mr Gemmel?" Amy carried on at their nod. "The car is this way sir," Amy gestured towards the way she had come.
"Thank you, Miss...?"
"Merrivale, sir." They walked in silence to a large Mercedes. The two men slipped into the back while Amy sat in the front and nodded to the driver. She wondered what was going on. 'Mr Gemmel' was the director's right hand man and he was personally overseeing this operation. That in itself was unusual, but the other assets, which would be arriving on a number of other flights, were as varied a group as she had ever worked with.
Amy shook her head. It wasn't her place to question the decisions of her superiors. Her curisoity and creativity were better directed towards completing this mission.
As the car sped towards the city, the man Amy had addressed as Mr Gemmel silently reviewed his notes. Things had been arranged so quickly. The phone call from one of their contacts within the Society of Ulle had come through only days before. He had been dragged out of bed, called into Alistair's office and filled in on all the pertinent details before he was told to pack a bag and head down to Los Angeles.
Alistair's voice had been urgent and the determined look on his face was as close as Michael Gemmel had ever seen his boss get to being excited or frantic. "The fools from the Society of Ulle won't go near her. The last run-in they had with an Elder almost destroyed them. They have no wish to risk a repeat of that experience."
So here he was. In a city that never slept. A city he loathed for its heat, its crass people and its blatant lack of elegance. For a few seconds, Michael Gemmel stared at the multitude of buildings rushing past. Then, suppressing a shudder, he looked away. He had other things to deal with right then. The faster this business was wrapped up, the sooner he'd be back in England. Leaning forward slightly he said, "Our contact from Ulle. When and where are we suppose to meet him?"
Amy hesistated slightly before answering. "I'm afraid sir, that Xavier... Well, he's dead, sir."
There was a pause, then, "How?"
"The grapevine has it that he was slain two nights back by a Myoleth triad. The police found a body; it was so completely butchered that they are still having trouble identifying it. And there were sightings of a triad looking for our contact prior to the body being found. The body certainly is indicative of a praentath. Which in turn suggests the sightings were correct."
"Damn! Well, no matter. Nothing we can do about that now, though it is rather inconvenient." The car pulled up outside a small residential building. "You've made preparations for the rest of the team?"
"Yes sir."
Mariah and Ryan clash
***Friday, September 2, 2005 evening***
Mariah stirred restlessly on her dais. All around her, the acolytes and initiates worked to prepare for the coming months. The ranks of the Crimson Brotherhood swelled, growing exponentially as more and more men came into the fold. Mariah had a regular army, the strength of her forces far surpassing any point in the past, even the infamous Inquisition. It was delightful how the lost and lonely children of this modern time were so ready to cling to the “hope” she offered. It was just too bad so many of them would be lost in the war that was to come. Only a few, Mariah’s most trusted few, would live to see the glory of her reign. Such thoughts invariably brought Mariah back to her biggest problem, her most disturbing conundrum, Mr. Samuel Aubrey.
In the beginning, it had seemed so perfect. Sam was the perfect choice, the perfect man for the job. He was malleable, easy to guide, so utterly lacking in spirit or will. He’d been delighted by Mariah’s attention, hungry for her knowledge and approval, even eager to please. For Mariah, Sam was the perfect sycophant. Now, though, something had changed. Some force, some unknown had come into play. Perhaps more than one force. Someone else had seen fit to pull the strings on Mariah’s favorite marionette. This was disappointing at best, perhaps even infuriating. If Sam’s other involvements proved impediments to Mariah’s goals, she would not be pleased. The situation needed watching, warranted careful consideration.
Mariah stewed on the problem of Sam, idly twirling one fat, blonde curl around her finger, and her bow of a mouth drawn into a sulky frown. It was this thoughtful pose Ryan came upon when he entered the dream temple, his own expression flaring with anger. Ryan strode up to the dais and barely inclined his head in respect to Mother Mariah. She noticed him immediately, but did not respond at first. “This one is entirely too arrogant,” Mariah thought coolly. “Let him wait on my pleasure. Perhaps he’ll discover some reverence.”
Mariah may have misplayed The Night Walker. He was impatient. She could feel his frustration and anger, a palpable presence even here in the dream. Mariah suspected that he was too sure of his place in her design. She had not contacted him in quite a while, had ignored his calls, and denied him entrance into the dream realm. Rather than inspiring gratitude for granting this audience, Mariah sensed that her tactics had alienated The Night Walker. His hunger for vengeance and his need for Amanda were perhaps more powerful than his will to resist. Mariah worried that he might do something rash and endanger her whole plan. She worried entirely too much these days. It was really quite annoying.
“Mother,” Ryan bowed his head only slightly, and made no effort to hide the sardonic twist to his mouth or the derisive, mocking tone in his voice.
Mariah turned her attention on the demon, her brows rising in surprise. “Night Walker,” she said coolly, “Why have you come? You were not summoned.”
Ryan seethed. This was more than he could stomach. This girl god had played with him long enough. He wasn’t one of her followers, or one of her puppets for that matter. They had a mutually beneficial relationship, or at least they were supposed to have one. Ryan was getting really tired of waiting on Mariah’s pleasure. He hadn’t haunted Daye by day or night in a long time. The gnawing hunger he always carried for her was threatening to rage out of control.
“No, I wasn’t summoned,” he snapped. “I haven’t been summoned for much too long. We haven’t done anything in ages. Don’t you think it’s time we got rolling again? With all due respect Mother, we are going to lose all the ground we’ve gained with Amanda.”
Mariah did not respond to Ryan’s words at first. She simply stared at him, allowing her rage over his words to merge with all the other frustration she had been feeling. She was filled with outrage and fury. This demon upstart was a fool to challenge her and she would take great pleasure in punishing him.
Ryan watched with growing concern as Mariah fumed. Her face had grown cruelly furious, and the temple surrounding them faded. They sat in a dark empty space, the only light coming from the fiery aura surrounding Mariah. She seemed to grow immensely before his eyes, becoming a prepubescent gargantuan in her rage. Ryan shied back as she towered over him, her eyes blazing with a cold white light.
“You fool!” she screeched, “I offer you a place of power beside me, and you repay me with impudence. I am not your equal. You are a small, insignificant worm. I am a goddess. Do not forget why you are here. If your usefulness becomes obsolete, I will be rid of you, Night Walker. Do not mistake my generosity for weakness.”
Ryan felt fear being replaced with sullen anger. Mariah was not as powerful as she claimed to be. She needed him and the others and he knew it. She didn’t care what it was costing him, this delay. Still, it would not be wise to anger her further here in this place. This dream was wholly her domain. In it she was all powerful. Fortunately for Ryan, that power did not follow him out into the real world. If he decided to take action while she wasted time, there was nothing Mariah could do to stop him.
Feigning fright and contrition, Ryan dropped his gaze and bowed low to Mariah. “Forgive me, Mother,” he said, “I am an ignorant child. You are right to be angry. I should exhibit more patience.”
Mariah smiled, allowing her anger to melt away. In moments she was once again the beautiful girl on the dais. Her priests once again worked in silence around the temple. “I understand,” she said benevolently, “You must control yourself. It will not be long now. I promise you, you shall be satisfied.”
Ryan nodded, once, his head still down, eyes on the floor.
“You may go,” Mariah dismissed, inordinately pleased with herself. It was always a joy, reminding them who was in charge.
“As you wish, Mother,” Ryan replied, turning to leave. He exited the temple and found himself in his room, in his apartment. “I may be your pawn there, but here I am still free,” he spoke softly as he rose from the bed and dressed. “I can’t wait around forever. I have to see her, maybe sneak a small taste. After all, what could it hurt?”
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Los Angeles. It had been only a few years ago that she had last set foot here. But now the memories came flooding back, hitting her like concrete. She closed her eyes and gripped the railing and let the wave upon wave of pain pass through her. Once the feeling was gone she opened her eyes and blinked away her tears. It seemed to be eons ago to her, but still she couldn’t take it in.
She thought she had buried all the memories of all of it. The “incident” and many to follow them. But she was wrong. They were still fresh in her mind. She came down the stair of the airport with just her handbag and called for a taxi.
The taxi came and she opened the door and went in. She had grown weary of traveling. She felt her energy entirely drained but that was not from the traveling.
She gave the taxi an address of a hotel she knew and sat back in the seat. Taking out her mirror she examined herself. Her hair was white and she had the appearance of an old woman. *Perfect, no one will suspect anything.*
She thought again of why she had come again. *Because of her. I should have killed her while I had the chance…*
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
September 2 2005, London, England
Will sat on the dark oak and leather desk sifting through the files that were stacked to one side of his computer. The Council building was pretty quiet in the dark hours. People tended to get home while they could, but the fact that Will lived in the apartment opposite meant he would sometimes stay after work to finish up.
The phone was still ringing and had been for a fair while. “Come on Jess, pick up,” he whispered to himself as he continued tapping the table and cursing his stupidity.
“Hello?” the teenage girl's voice came clearly over the line.
“Ellie? Hi. Is Jess there, please?” Will moved over to the window in his third floor office and looked out into the dark London street, the dim light of the desk lamp shining behind him. The rain fell heavily on the pane, as an elderly man walked rapidly against the wind, getting soaked after having given up on his umbrella that Will watched turn inside out.
“I don’t know.” William heard the sound of the phone being dropped onto a surface and then Ellie shouting Jess’ name. About a minute later the phone was picked up and Jess spoke into it.
“Hey Jess. I was erm- sorry I didn’t call you when I got back. I just got time to sleep off the jetlag and already had a huge pile of work on my desk; it’s been busy here the past few weeks.”
“That’s no problem. How are you?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I don’t have time to talk, I just really need to ask you a favour. Someone’s coming to talk to me in a moment.”
“O…kay,” she sounded slightly irritated by her brother’s cold manner but listened anyway.
“I left a very important disk in L.A. and I really need the files for this meeting tonight. I only just realised I didn’t have it today. I know, I know, I’m really stupid… I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.”
“Sorry, I was out, or training with Ellie. I kinda left the phone off the hook for a while.”
“Okay. Could you possibly see if you’ve got it, I think I left it by your laptop.” By now Will was calming down slightly, but he still tapped the table with his fingers in a nervous manner. He looked around the dark office to the oak bookcases, filled with arcane volumes that lined the walls. The décor was very old fashioned, and always had been in this place.
A second later Jessica returned to the phone, “Got it, you want me to e-mail it to you?”
“Please, and you must understand you can’t read it. Sorry, it’s confidential stuff, the board would kill me if they found out you’d got hold of it. I’m so idiotic to leave it behind anyway…”
“Sure. Not a problem. I take it you want it posted to you then as well?”
Will smiled, although he knew Jess couldn’t see it. “Knew you’d understand.”
“Okay, it’s sent, you’ll get it in a min. I have to go now, I’m training, and you’ve got this meeting.”
“Thanks you so much! Love you. Bye.” And before Jess could say anything Will had hung up.
The heavy door of the dimly lit office opened quietly, and William turned to see the dripping man enter and take off his long black jacket. Will motioned for him to enter and he sat down on the opposite side to Will, resting his legs on the desk.
“So, Mr Travers… About your sister and that slayer of hers. I take it you’ve written and have the report…”
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
(author’s note: memory/dream sequences will appear in blue, internal thoughts as so *thought*)
September 5, 2005
Tyler stood up from his seat and made his way to the back of the train. He kept his head down hoping, praying that no one would take notice, ask him what was wrong. When moments like this one came Tyler never knew what he would do if someone did. All he knew is it wouldn’t be anything good.
Even to those trained for it, seemingly born to it, killing a man is not easy. And with visions of Harrison dancing about in his head, Tyler stepped through the car door, and into a vacant restroom. Once the door was closed Tyler took hold of his head and growled lightly. When that was done he looked up, meeting his own eye in the mirror.
“'Keep the balance', he said.” Tyler’s eye flashed in anger. “How can someone keep things in check, when he’s out of control?” Tyler stopped and breathed a bit.
“You’re doing what has to be done. Survive. Survival. That’s all there is. Do that, and the walls will come tumbling down. Then you can balance the scales.” Tyler chuckled softly, with no mirth, before turning to the door.
Same day, Austin Texas
Balance command center bustled, staying active, as it would twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. In it reports were being fed, briefings on the destruction of demon nests, and silencing of newly formed “wild cards” around the world. This is the place that refuse goes to be swept up. And in the center, at the back of the room, Collin Braddock sat in his office listening to someone on the other end of his phone.
The office itself had been decorated with the usual, the basics. It had a desk set in the center of the room, a few feet away from the rear wall. Behind that Collin had put a bookcase which he filled with books on tactics, the occult and the odd novel. To the left someone had placed a giant fern and to the right, an empty picture frame. The phone sat on the upper left corner of Collin’s desk and seemed to be occupied with important business.
Which is why Collin gestured to one of his agents to remain quiet as that agent walked through the door.
“Are you asking me a direct question, Senator?”
Collin’s face wore a mask of irritation.
“Yes, and there was a reason you told me you never would. I didn’t report this to you because it’s not of any concern. It’s being handled.” Collin didn’t bother to mask that irritation any longer.
“Frankly, sir, Hyatt is smarter than that. He knows this game. He has to have conclusive proof before he’d do anything of the kind. What?” Collin stopped, while he listened to some kind of question.
“Sir…” The agent, a young man named Richard Dickinson, had grown impatient. Collin silenced him with a flash of his hand.
“The only place he could get that, Senator, is here. And even then, he’d have to prove MJ-12 for any of it to make sense. If he could do that, my job is quite pointless, isn’t it?” Collin sat back, satisfied.
“Now, what can I do for you, Dickinson?”
The train.
Hyatt exited the restroom and started down the aisles. As he came to his seat, his eye drifted to the woman across from him. She’d not even registered when he first boarded, but he saw her clearly now. She was young, a brunette, and had, as he walked up, suddenly frozen. Well, no. She'd frozen as he made his way up.
She saw the gun.
*Idiot. Keep the coat closer in.*
“Relax. It’s legal,” Tyler tried a smile.
“How’d you get it on board?” It didn’t work. So Tyler flashed a badge, which he would be ditching soon enough.
“Ah.” The girl relaxed. And Tyler sat.
“You’re from New York?” This would be small talk. Tyler dreaded this.
“Yeah. I’m on vacation.” So, he lied. It was like breathing.
“Really? What’s in LA?”
“An old friend.” Tyler shut his eye at that, and leaned back. He continued trading mild pleasantries with the girl while the projector turned on in his head.
Memory is a bitch.
*****
“Now, what can I do for you Dickinson?” If one knew how to look, one would quickly find Collin despised his subordinates. His eyes swam with contempt at the sight of almost every one of them, Dickinson in particular.
*This man has never fired a gun in his life,* Collin thought as he pretended to care about the other man’s presence.
“Sir, I’ve received word from Scott - he and Allen arrived in Boston yesterday and have found no trace of Hyatt.” Dickinson spoke with a great deal of confidence, given he was before a very powerful man.
“Of course not, they’re idiots.” Collin didn’t bother hiding the contempt.
“And this just came in, sir.” Dickinson handed a folder across the desk. Collin took a moment and scanned it.
“Get back to Scott, have him and Harrison come in. Is Merdano back yet?”
“Yes. He reports a successful clean-up.”
“Good. Send him to Boston; have him pick up Hyatt’s trail. Put Harrison on this. And get me LA.”
Dickinson stepped out of the office to do as was asked and Collin sat back. On some days, this job managed to not suck.
*****
The young woman stopped talking and Tyler was left alone with his thoughts. And, given who Tyler is, that’s not the best place to be. It’s always the same movie, and it always starts in the same place:
A street. Not a street corner, but just a street, like any other in the urban type area. In the background is a building which is carefully crafted to look just like any other. This is the front of Balance headquarters, and Tyler Hyatt stands in front of it next to Collin Braddock. What they are waiting for is a cab.
Which arrives within a second.
Out of the cab steps a young man, dressed all in black, going with denim over dress pants, and a t-shirt over the collared, sleeved shirt. In addition, he wears a black duster. This is Ryan Michaels, before he became Bereaver. As the young man stands, sizing Tyler up, Collin makes the introductions.
“Tyler Hyatt, this is your partner, Ryan Michaels. Ryan…” That was as far as Collin got before Ryan interrupted.
“Tyler Hyatt. The legend himself. Thought you’d be taller.” A deaf, dumb, complete idiot could have picked up the sarcasm in the voice of the younger man. That would be no surprise either, since he’d intended that. So, all three men stood silent a moment, waiting for the response.
“Piss off, son.” Tyler simply turned and walked into headquarters. And Michaels smirked. Tyler could feel it.
It always got worse from there. Missions, Ryan’s first kill, San Francisco, and Gloria with her neck between the teeth of her son, lifeless. Such things, constant visions of such things, for some, is the functional equivalent of torture. And those who live with them do so at a great cost. But Tyler didn’t have to bear it on this day. The train came to a stop, and he stood to de-board.
He’d arrived.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
“Right block, ok, now a round house kick… No, no, you are doing it wrong.” Thule came over to Tarix and showed her the movement again.
“See, a round house kick goes something like this.” He then scrunched into a position and did a kick.
Tarix rolled her eyes, “Tell me again why I am doing this Thule? Every week you have me come here and train for two hours and then study ‘ Mystical Forces’,” she air quoted, “for the next two hours.”
Thule regained his posture and stood up straight. “It’s quite simple and I am sure I have explained it to you before. Because of the gap in your memory I am afraid you do not remember any self defense and anything about the ‘ Mystical Forces’,” he imitated her air quotes, “And in order for you to survive in this harsh world you need to defend yourself.” He glanced at his wristwatch and sighed. “Ok, I guess that’s enough training for today. You may leave now.”
Tarix seemed relieved, “Thank God!”
Then she stopped. “Is there a God, Thule?”
“We’ll focus on that topic next week. You may go now, I have a prior engagement I need to attend.”
She grabbed her bags and started to leave. “Oh, Thule, what about my job at the fast food joint? I mean this patriotism pays well…”
“Patronage,” Thule corrected her.
“Whatever, this pays me well. I don’t know why I need to keep that job?”
“It’s quite simple, so that you don’t fall idle the rest of the days of the week. Also to keep your mind occupied.”
“Oh, ok, but we could always increase our training time to daily hours, can’t we?” she asked.
“Yes we can, and I was thinking of doing that beginning next week. However I still want you to keep the job. You can come for training in the evening.”
There was a moment of reticence and Tarix decided now was the time to leave.
mrs wyldling's important task
***** Friday, September 2, 2005, early afternoon *****
Alicia Wyldling stepped out of the LAX terminal and flagged down a nearby taxi. She pushed her short, dark curls back from her forehead and sighed. It was still quite warm in the city, but she was grateful for it. After weeks spent in the dreary rain of the English countryside, Mrs. Wyldling was thankful to finally be home. As the taxi driver unloaded her luggage and stored it in the trunk, she settled into the back seat. Giving the driver directions to her house, Alicia relaxed, shutting her eyes and letting her head fall back to rest on the seat behind her. The last few weeks had been an exhausting ordeal of meetings with prophets, seers, and the heads of the Watchers Council.
It was a relief to finally be back in L.A., on the one hand. On the other, however, weighed the terrible importance of the task which she had been given. Alicia sat in the taxi, considering for the hundredth time all that had befallen her since she left L.A.
***Flashback***
“You have not told us your personal impressions of the girl,” a scowling man paced the room in front of Alicia. “Do you feel we are in danger? Is it in the council’s best interest to allow Miss Blaise to continue in this manner?”
Alicia considered carefully her words. Although Amanda Blaise was an unusual, somewhat headstrong young woman, Alicia liked her. She also realized that Amanda had been a party to something major in L.A. over the last few months. Something the girl had not felt it necessary to share in detail with the Council elders in her reports. The dilemma Alicia faced was whether or not she should trust the Council with what she knew. Alicia was very good at interpreting prophecy. It was why she had been recruited to the Watchers' Council in the first place. It was also why she felt strongly about Amanda Blaise. The young woman was a key element in a prophecy of utmost importance.
“I feel that Miss Blaise is handling things in L.A. remarkably well,” Alicia replied, making a sudden decision. It felt right to trust Amanda in this. “She’s capable and dedicated. It is my recommendation that the Council refrains from interference in this matter.”
“Very well, then,” the man nodded once decisively. “Of course, you will be returning to L.A. to continue observing the girl. We trust you will keep us informed if anything of importance arises.”
“Of course, Mr. Delancre,” Alicia agreed, rising and smoothing her skirt. She turned to leave.
“Oh, and thank you, Alicia,” Ambrose Delancre said. “As I’m sure you know, Amanda Blaise is rather important to me. This project has my personal attention.”
“Of course, Director,” Alicia replied. She understood the inherent threat in Ambrose Delancre’s words. He was the Director of Global and Interdimensional Personnel for the Council. The man wielded a lot of power, so when he took a personal interest in something, it was best to be very careful that the outcome was to his liking.
Alicia left Delancre’s office feeling tenser than she had going in.
***
Alicia Wyldling stood on the balcony outside the formal sitting room in one of the oldest and most valuable castles still standing in England. There was a cool, moist breeze blowing her hair gently. She watched the trees swaying in the distance and tried desperately to focus on her own inner center of calm. She was concentrating so hard that she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone came up and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. She spun around to find one of the Council’s highest ranking witches standing beside her in a long, dark cloak with the hood raised. The woman’s face was nearly hidden in the shadows of the cowl about her head.
“Ariel?” Alicia was not sure if that was the woman facing her or not.
“Shhh,” the woman glanced about furtively, apparently looking to see if anyone else was about. “Please, keep your voice down, Alicia. Yes, it’s me. I need to speak to you. Can we walk in the gardens?”
Alicia was intrigued by the other woman’s behavior. “All right,” she replied softly, turning towards the staircase on the side of the veranda that led down into the gardens below.
In moments, she and her companion were walking among the heady scent of flowers and foliage. Neither spoke for a few moments, until they had moved a ways away from the castle itself.
After they had come to a secluded area in the garden, Ariel pushed back her hood and turned her face up to the moon above. She pulled something out of her pocket and began to chant in Latin. Alicia recognized the form of a silence spell, one the Council used to shield conversations from outside ears. That was even more intriguing. Who here, on the grounds of this estate, could Ariel be trying to keep this meeting secret from? When the other woman finished her incantation, Alicia focused all her attention on her.
“What is going on?” Alicia asked. “Why did you do that? Is there something wrong?”
“Yes,” Ariel replied, “there’s something very wrong, and you may be our only hope.”
“Our?” Alicia repeated. “Who is our? Who are you representing, Ariel?”
“A group of us, witches, prophets, seers, mages, and the like,” Ariel began, “we are concerned about Daye.”
Alicia sighed. “I already had this out with Ambrose,” she began.
Ariel cut her off. “Please, don’t mention the Director,” she admonished, “He is the reason all this is necessary.”
Alicia was again shocked by Ariel’s words. Director Delancre was probably the most trusted Council elder Alicia had ever met. He was considered by some to be the savior of the Council, as he had rushed in to restore order after the Great Scourge in ’03. Delancre had used much of his own personal resources to rebuild the Council. Many had wanted to appoint him First Elder, but he had refused the honor. The position had always traditionally gone to the oldest member of the Elders' Council and Delancre insisted that continue. He was highly respected, perhaps even beloved, by a majority of the Watchers. To hear Ariel, herself a newly appointed Elder, speak of him in this manner really threw Alicia off.
“What is going on here?” Alicia faced Ariel, planting herself solidly in the other woman’s path. “I want an explanation for all the secrecy and intrigue. Tell me now what you and your ‘friends’ are trying to do. What is going on with the Director?”
Ariel sighed. “You have always been impatient,” she chided. “I fear you are not prepared for this task. But there is no one else.”
Alicia growled in frustration at Ariel’s cryptic statements.
“I know,” Ariel soothed. “Please, just hear me out. The faction I am representing is concerned about the Director’s motives, his plans concerning your young friend. We have uncovered some disturbing facts; facts about the Director, and his ‘personal project.’”
“Are you talking about the Omega Project?” Alicia was growing more and more confused. The Omega Project was a highly classified facility in South America, where Ambrose Delancre ran a supposed rehabilitation center for various prisoners the Council had amassed over the years. Only the most trusted members of his personal staff had ever even been there.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Ariel replied. “We have it on good authority that the Director may actually be doing more than rehabilitating minor offenders and troublemakers at that site. From what has been discovered, Delancre is using the South American compound to create and train an army of hybrid soldiers. The first of these has been released and sent to Los Angeles; to Amanda Blaise.”
“What?” Alicia’s mind reeled. How could this be? Delancre had always made it a point to protect Daye. Most of the Council members were of the opinion that the man held almost a fatherly affection for the girl. Now, though, Alicia thought of what she knew of their relationship, and she was concerned about the pattern she could pick out. If viewed in this light, it was easy to see how Delancre had manipulated the girl. He had pushed and pulled her in various directions, and utilizing her innate talent for prophecy and interpretation, Alicia Wyldling could see the man’s hand attempting to guide and shape destiny.
“This could be disastrous,” Alicia murmured.
“You see the lines and how they are being drawn out, don’t you?” Ariel said. “Yes, continuing unopposed as he has been, Ambrose could very well affect the future of this whole world. He could be setting us all up for an apocalypse. That’s why we have decided to attempt to stop him. You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Alicia responded, “And I want to help. I’ll do whatever it takes. This must be stopped.”
“Good,” Ariel said, “Then listen closely. Here’s what you need to do…”
***End Flashback***
“We’re here, lady,” the cabbie said, pulling up in front of Mrs. Wyldling’s small house. She thanked him, paid the fare (along with a decent tip) and grabbed her luggage from the trunk. In moments, she stood in front of her own door, holding her carryon on her shoulder and one of her suitcases in her hand. She had set everything else down while she checked the mail. Finally, balancing everything, she opened the door and stepped inside. There was just enough time to dump her bags on her bed and take a brief shower to wash away the travel grime before she had to get down to the shop to catch up with Daye and begin to fulfill her new tasks, both the official and unofficial ones.
Too bad dragons are extinct in this dimension...
Friday, September 2, 2005, evening
Mantheana shifted her position on the bench. This really only consisted of re-crossing her legs and sitting up a little straighter. Mantheana always sat like that. It was the way she had been brought up. It wasn't a particularly comfortable bench and although she had been waiting only a couple of minutes already she was nervous and fidgety. She didn't know why she was waiting. She didn't need to go anywhere with Bowen. In fact she could go home right now and-
Bowen pulled up. He had a jeep. The top was folded down, and she could see Bowen grinning sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late, but LA traffic remained hell, even when I told it I had to go meet you."
He patted the seat next to him, motioning for Mantheana to get in. She complied, a little more enthusiastic now that he was here. There is only so long that a respectable young lady can wait on a street corner before it becomes embarrassing and quite ridiculous.
"That’s fine. I haf not been vaiting that long anyvay." She smiled and rubbed her hands together to try and generate some heat. "So vhere are ve going?" He had insisted earlier that she would just have to find out. She tried to catch him out.
"Aha. You're a quick one, I'll give you that!" It hadn't worked. "You will just have to wait. It's nothing special, but I like to go there sometimes, so I thought I would show you." He winked deviously at her.
"Cruel!" She pouted with a look so reminiscent of the one he had seen Maria use previously that Bowen couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"Vot? Vot is so funny?" Mantheana felt paranoia wash over her briefly. What had she done?
"Oh nothing. Its just you looked so like Maria when you did that. That's all."
"Really?" Mantheana appeared to glow for a second with a sort of motherly pride before snuggling further into the recesses of her cloak. "So vhere are ve going?"
"You'll see! It's not far." Bowen pulled off the main road and branched off down several side roads before they came to an area where the land a little higher than that which surrounded it. Bowen brought the jeep up and stopped in what appeared to be a car park. Just a dingy, old carpark.
"Bowen?"
"Yeah?"
"A car park?"
"Uhuh."
"You brought me to a car park?"
"Well… yeah, but that’s not what we're here to look at."
"Then vot?"
"Look up."
Mantheana did. Clouds.
"Yeys?" Mantheana thought she must have missed out on some vital piece of information that made this all make sense. Bowen, who had previously been looking at Mantheana, looked up himself.
"Crap. I really need to plan these things better-"
"Vot?"
"-Well you can kinda see, because the clouds aren't that thick, and they are clearing-"
"Vot?"
"The stars. We were supposed to be looking at the stars. It's really quite nice to look at sometimes, but knowing LA, I should have counted on the fact that it would probably be cloudy. I thought maybe it might be something you would enjoy." Bowen's expression was downtrodden and disappointed.
"Aww." She caught his hands and rubbed them soothingly. His flesh was boiling hot against her skin like porcelain left outside. Then she looked up to the sky, letting herself focus in a way that only the enhanced could.
"I see!" She looked back at Bowen, her eyes dilated so far that her crimson irises were barely visible. "They are there. I think the clouds are clearing a little. I see them! I do!"
"Then your eyesight must be a darn sight better than mine!" he retorted, but still he gazed upwards. He too, could see the stars, if he looked very carefully. Dim glows through the translucent veil of clouds. It was still pretty in a way. "Yeah, I can see them a little."
"Vell then that is all that matters." Mantheana brought her head forward again, and let her pupils change back to normal. "Thank you for bringing me out here. It seems more quiet." It wasn't. the traffic still passed and beeped, but it seemed a little less amplified.
"Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? I come here to think, a lot. Just because no one else comes. Mind you, who would want to come and sit in a fall-apart car park in the evening? Its not exactly beautiful now is it?"
He chuckled and looked around. He was right. Scraps of paper and cigarette stubs littered the floor, and the actual 'Car Park' sign was coming to pieces. "Why did I even want to take you here?" he mumbled apologetically to Mantheana.
But she smiled and looked up. "Because of the sky, Bowen, because of the sky." Bowen looked at it, and found that the clouds had started to fade and move away, leaving the stars a little clearer for their observation.
"Do you see that one Mantheana?" Bowen pointed at a cluster of stars, tracing the air with his finger "It's Capricornus. Its supposed to be a goat, but I really can't see the goat in it can you?"
"Vell." Mantheana look at where he was pointing. "It looks like a bent triangle to me." She giggled nervously, not wanting to spoil Bowen's fun.
"Me too," Bowen grinned. "And there," he continued, "is Sagittarius." He pointed at a complex scattering of lights, "who is supposed to be an archer. If you-"
"Oh I see it! Sort of. It vould be easier if I could draw on the sky!" Mantheana had also started tracing an elaborate yet invisible web between the distant illuminations.
"Then I'm not mad. I thought I was the only one I knew who could see things in the stars."
"I just like to look at them. I don't come out much in the day, so instead of vatching clouds I used to vatch the stars to pass the time. They're so pretty; they used to remind me of home." She stared dreamily up at the sky.
"Yeah? What in the stars reminds you of home?" Bowen inquired gently. He was very much interested in Mantheana's home.
"Oh, my mother always used to wear jewels. And you can still see stars, where ever you are in the world. I would watch them with Maria- Maria Romanov that is. She vos my best friend ven I vos younger."
"That’s nice. What happened to her? Do you keep in touch?"
"No. She err… She passed away. But that vos after I left home. I did not really talk to her much after I left."
"Aww. Shame. There are some of my high school friends I wish I'd stayed in touch with. Never mind. I suppose you lose old friends but gain new ones, eh?"
"I suppose." Mantheana viewed the sky again. It was clearer still. Not perfect, but that little bit clearer. She smiled and rested her head on Bowen's shoulder.
"It's getting clearer, can you see?" she asked a little dreamily.
"Yeah. The stars are a bit brighter at least."
Mantheana shuddered momentarily. "I'm cold."
"Well I think you're hot."
Bowen looked down into her face, and she looked up into his. The pressure of the moment was too much. He kissed her cheek. Smooth and cold as ice... This was rather forward to someone like Mantheana. It could change everything, for better or for worse. Mantheana didn't respond. The kiss burned pleasantly on her face. Once more she looked imploringly into Bowen's blue eyes. He wasn't quite sure what they were saying. Mantheana rested her head back on his shoulder. There was some more silence.
"Bowen?"
"Yeah?"
"Take me home." The dreamy touch had not been lost from her voice, but it was still decisive in a way. She did not remove her head from Bowen's shoulder, but awaited his answer.
"Okay." He had planned to stay a while longer. She had stopped it short. But she hadn't run off. He wondered how much longer either of them could hold out. And what he could do to win her attention. Long gone were the days when slaying a dragon was a handy way to get the girl. Bowen started up the jeep and started back.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Monday, 5 September 2005 - 3pm
Jade's face and shoulder gleamed with a sheen of moisture as she spun around with another kick at the punching bag, grimacing slightly at the protests of her aching body. She'd decided to take Sorrow up on his suggestion that they train together and today was their first training session. Jade had left XY after lunch, entrusting the shop to Julian before returning home to change and begin what was turning out to be two hours of self-inflicted pain and punishment.
Despite her background in martial arts, Jade used it mostly for keeping fit and had little experience in the rigors of training for the purpose of battle. It did not help that the training room at Poplar had no air conditioning, making it almost unbearably hot. As rivulets of sweats poured down her back, soaking the thin red tanktop and baggy drawstring pants that she wore, Jade couldn't help but think wistfully of the cool, soothing interior of her shop and how comfortable she would have been there if she hadn't agreed to this fiasco.
"What was I thinking?" she muttered under her breath as the shook a stray lock of hair from her face, hitting the bag again with a vicious right jab. She threw Sorrow an irritated glance. *Slave driver.* Jade knew that it wasn't really Sorrow's fault but since the punchbag wasn't exactly responsive, he seemed to be the most convenient outlet for her frustrations at the moment.
Too late, Jade realised that Sorrow's earlier precaution *Barked command, in my opinion...* not to take her eyes off her "opponent" had been a valid one. The sandbag was whirling back towards her and distracted as she had been, Jade wasn't able to dodge before it hit her across the body and knocked her sprawling onto the floor.
"Ooof!"
Sorrow caught the punching bag on the back swing. *Ok, so that wasn't entirely fair but she wasn't paying attention.* Sorrow did understand though, it was hot and Jade wasn't used to this level of exertion. Walking around the bag he crouched over by Jade and tried to keep his expression the right side of concerned. "You ok? Maybe we should try something other than the bag."
Slowly Jade pushed herself to her feet, rubbing her stomach and glaring at Sorrow. *We? I seem to be the only one who's training here. Mr Know-It-All just stands around watching and now it's "we should try something else?" Sheesh.* Sticking her tongue out at Sorrow, she said, "What do you propose, oh Great One?"
He smiled and bent forward to brush his lips against hers. "I thought we could spar a little, maybe let you work off some of that frustration."
Sorrow would have to be careful; he hadn't sparred since he had reclaimed the D'Nethk'Quan but Jade was a lot more resilient than Tash, despite her lack of combat experience. If he made a mistake, it would have far fewer consequences. *Well, other than getting Jade very mad at me.*
"You know, you can try and kick my ass and I'll try and stop you."
"Sounds like a plan." Without any further warning, Jade dropped to a crouch and did a low sweep, knocking Sorrow flat off his feet. Before he could recover, she danced off to the far end of the room, chuckling to herself as she moved out of reach.
Sorrow rose in dignified silence. "That's the last free hit you get..." He moved into the centre of the room and faced Jade . Settling into his stance he gestured for her to attack.
Jade hesitated. Despite all the forcefulness Sorrow had shown during the session, Jade had felt a edge of playfulness in his demeanour. As she looked at Sorrow standing in the centre of the room, that edge had vanished, replaced with a quiet, calm focus.
*Uh oh... I'm in trouble now.* Jade moved slowly towards where Sorrow stood, watching him as he watched her. Cautiously, gracefully, the two of them circled the room, one searching for a point to attack, the other poised for it.
With a sudden rush of speed Jade pounced, aiming a quick punch at Sorrow and blinking in surprise when he twisted swiftly away. For the next few minutes they danced around the room, with Jade delivering blow after blow and Sorrow moving repeatedly beyond her reach.
When he was a little more certain of her speed and ability, Sorrow let Jade close. Her attacks crashed against his defences like a storm-tossed sea against a rocky headland. It remained like that for a few more minutes then Sorrow moved slowly onto the offensive. Sorrow tailored his attacks, being careful to push Jade to her utmost but not going beyond her ability.
Sorrow was impressed; Jade may not have focused on the combatative aspects of the arts but her natural grace speed and power took what she had learned and made it far more effective than either of them had realised. In the midst of a hard-fought combat, forced to stop thinking and merely act, Jade found a level of ability she had not believed she possesed. It was, however, not enough.
As time ticked by Sorrow stepped up another gear. Jade fell back, her own attacks becoming fewer and fewer as she concentrated on defending herself. Sorrow pushed harder and in a final burst of speed pierced Jade's defences. Though he did not strike her, the sight of Sorrow stopping a fraction of an inch from her face stunned her almost as much as a real blow would have. In that momentary lapse Sorrow took advantage and spun Jade around. Pinning her arms to her side, Sorrow dipped his head and nuzzled Jade's neck where it met her shoulder.
Breathing harshly, he eased his grip a little. "If you ever come out with me, this is the place you really shouldn't let them get to."
Jade's breathing was equally ragged. She hadn't realised the extent of Sorrow's strength or just how agile he was. Somehow, watching him in action was different to actually being in combat against him. His stamina seemed to be endless, his movements focused and gracefully predatory.
She forced her entire body to relax but her voice was husky when she spoke. "Well darling, if they ever get this close, then I'll just do this!" Jade angled her leg slightly and jerked her foot backwards, pressing it hard into Sorrow's inner thigh. Whether by accident or by design, her aim was off enough for Sorrow to be imminently thankful, but close enough to make him sweat. He released her arms, bending over into a crouch. Jade wrapped an elbow around his neck and yanked, throwing him to the floor and sitting on his stomach.
"I like this position much better." Her voice was still a little breathless but the grin was cheeky and challenging.
"Oh So do I, so do I..." Sorrow struck out in a blur, his hands pushed Jade off balance and a twist of his hips forced Jade off. He rolled their bodies and pinned Jade to the floor. He lowered his face to hers and claimed her lips with his own. "But this is even better."
Jade ran her hands down Sorrow's bare, muscled back and arched against him. Hearing the low growl in his throat, she smiled. "Let's just say that both positions have their merits." Pulling his head towards hers, she kissed him deeply, loving the feel of his warm mouth against hers, revelling in the hardness of his body weighing her down. *Mmm... Maybe this training thing isn't so bad after all.*
As Sorrow raked his hands down her body, Jade pressed her tongue against the pulse at Sorrow's neck, licking the salt off his skin and tracing a path back to his mouth. Desire built in her to a fever pitch. Maybe it was the fact that they had not made love for some time. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the sparring that had her blood pumping. Jade wasn't sure and at that very moment, she couldn't care less. The entire building could have collapsed around them and she didn't think she'd be able to stop.
Reaching back, Jade freed her hair from the band holding her braid together, letting it cascade down her back in a fall of soft curls. Sorrow ran his fingers through it and cupped her head before crushing his lips on her again. As the straps of Jade's top slipped off her shoulders, he pulled back slightly, his eyes hot, his voice low. "Darling, we have to stop... Someone could walk in."
"I don't care. I want you Tris... Don't stop touching me... Please." Jade arched against him again, her body pliant in his arms.
Sorrow groaned at the feel of Jade's body pressing against his. Her words sparked a flood of desire past all control and his mouth descended to plunder hers again. As their tongues duelled, he rolled their bodies again. Jade drew herself up and Sorrow slipped his hands beneath her top, drawing it off. He leant forward and kissed the slopes of her breasts. Jade sighed in pleasure and wrapped her arms around him...
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
September 5th, 3:34pm
*Things are definitely looking up,* Hyatt thought while he stood in the alley, clothed in the cover of shadow, screwing the suppressor onto his Sig. He was heading into trouble now and he knew it, looking down at the empty duffel beside him. Just out of the alley and to the right stood Bob’s Bar. The simple look of the place, which screamed demon hotspot dive, had told Tyler to go in prepared.
Not that he ever wasn’t.
The train had deposited Tyler at a station roughly twenty miles east of LA. To cover the additional distance, Tyler’s ticket included a Greyhound ride into town. On that bus Tyler had seen a kid who was fidgeting in his jacket. Figuring the kid for a hunter, Tyler tailed him.
Five minutes ago the kid went into the bar. Two minutes ago Tyler heard a body being deposited out back.
*Figures,* Tyler thought without pity. He then holstered his gun and walked out of the alley, turning to go into Bob’s.
Entering the bar, Tyler found it every bit as disgusting as he’d come to expect of demon dives. But he shoved that aside and took a seat at the end of the bar, not far from the door, before running a hand through his hair. This one had to work.
Austin
Collin Braddock took up a position behind his desk just as his aide, Dickinson, entered the office.
“Sir, Harrison and Scott have arrived.” Dickinson spoke in an almost robotic tone. This drill bored him.
“Then send them in.” Collin stood to greet his underlings as they entered. Allen Harrison stood on the right, the older of the two. His hair had started graying but wasn’t quite to the part where it fell out. He was not imposingly tall or in any way physically intimidating, but the look in his eyes, like in any man, told the story. He was a hard man with no tolerance for sloppiness. As such he walked in a pristine, perfectly pressed black suit, much like Collin’s. The big difference between the two was that Collin’s cost ten times as much.
Trey Scott, on the other hand, was as imposing as men could get. He towered over his partner, standing nearly a foot taller than the unimposing Harrison. In addition, he must have had fifty pounds on the older man, all of which was solid muscle. His hair was shoulder length and blonde, to go with a neatly trimmed but long goatee. Mr Scott looked something like a Hell’s Angel, only better dressed in black slacks and a dark blue collared shirt.
“Gentlemen, sit.” The pair did as he asked, but Collin remained standing. It was a simple sign of who had the power in this room.
“Sir, I’d like to know why we’ve been called in. Hyatt is hard enough to follow when the trail is hot.” Harrison didn’t seem prepared to beat around the bush. Collin loved that about him.
“I called you in, Allen, because I’m taking you off the Hyatt case. Merdano’s already on that.” Collin didn’t even have to look to know Harrison was angered.
“Why?”
“Frankly, Agent, you’ve botched the job quite badly. Merdano is a better tracker, and better at covering himself,” Collin snapped with a warning in his voice.
“I disagree.” Harrison tested his boss often.
“It’s not your decision, and as I’ve said, the change is made. Dickinson has your new assignment. You’re going to LA. And that is not up for debate.” Collin cut his man off.
“Yes, sir.” Harrison and Scott stood and left. And Collin sat again, pondering. And that, as you should know by now, always leads to an idea.
Los Angeles, 4:00 pm
*Never get your hopes up, Tyler, you sap.* Hyatt’s thoughts had turned angry as he continued to sit at the bar. For the better part of the last half hour Tyler had done nothing save size up the place and its patrons. The patrons at this relatively early hour consisted of a Chaos demon, two free drink young girls, here for a post drink meal to two vampires who were obviously the demonic equivalent of tourists.
Then there was the vamp in the corner. He was sitting on the opposite end of the bar from Hyatt, hunched into a corner, nursing a glass of blood. His hair was filthy, brown, and spiked. To borrow a phrase, it went straight up and was stupid, but that’s neither here nor there. This vamp dressed himself like a reject from Goth Talk. He was a walking cliché.
*Bingo.* Hyatt stood with this vamp, and tailed him to the back of the bar where the vamp proceeded to exit into the alley, and sprint to an open manhole, neglecting to close it behind him.
“God I hope all the demons in this city are so dumb,” Hyatt muttered as he dropped into the hole. Then a minor bit of hell broke loose. He was attacked by the piss poor Azreal Abyss poser, and slammed into the wall. The vamp followed with a hard fist to the kidney, which had Tyler reeling. Sensing this, the demon sprang for the kill.
However, as he spun Tyler around and leaned in for the kill, Tyler lifted a knee into the creature’s crotch, backing him off. With room now, Tyler drove his palm into the vamp’s nose, breaking it. As the poor bastard clutched his face, Tyler nailed a left cross to the temple. He finished the job then, drawing his gun and crashing it into the demon’s head.
“Schmuck,” Tyler sneered as the demon fell face first into the flows of human waste. Then he pulled the duct tape out of his coat.
Balance HQ
Collin Braddock grew impatient as he listened to the senseless rambling of yet another of his underlings. This is not a wise practice. But still, the other end of the phone was filled with rambling.
“…I’m telling you, it’s not possible. Not now, not ever, and even if it was possible, do you have any idea the sort of magics that would take? We’d be lucky not to bring the roof down on our ignorant heads. And I don’t need a roof falling on my head. My head cracks like a damn egg. Look at it wrong and gray matter splooges out of my ears. And another thing…”
Collin ended it there. “Shut up and do your job. I’ve seen it done. Just find me the damn scrolls, and the right shaman. And I want SOMETHING by tomorrow.” Collin hung up his phone, loudly.
“Christ.”
Los Angeles, 4:45 pm
“Melvin. Wake up, Melvin. Time for school Melvin.”
Waking up to that and the pungent odor of gasoline on top of human feces would startle even the most seasoned of evil demons. A vampire like ours, he damn near added to the mass of human waste.
“Howdy, Mel.” Tyler stood over the vamp, smiling in a fashion that would scare the non-evil, and non-stupid.
“My name’s not Mel.” The demon vamped out and struggled to stand, only to find his hands and feet bound. Tyler, meanwhile, upon the L in Mel, brought his right foot down hard on Mel’s crotch. Mel, being male, despite being dead, reeled.
“What makes you think I care what your name is?” Tyler turned away and paced to the edge. “This is a simple process. Do it right, you’ll live to suck on some young girl’s neck. Screw up, and you’ll find out why I covered you in gas. We clear?” Mel struggled more, trying every trick he knew, which spanned wiggling a little. Then he gave up and nodded.
“Good.” Tyler crouched next to Mel. “I’m new in town, Mel. You look like you’ve been here a while. Know your way around?” Mel nodded.
“I need to get to the Beazor Complex. You know how to get there?” Mel nodded again. “Good. Here’s the deal. In about twenty minutes, direct sunlight won’t be a problem anymore. I’ve acquired a car and it’s parked next to the manhole.” What Tyler meant was that he had stolen a nearby Buick. “You’ll direct me to the Beazor. Once we’re there I’ll check it out, and if we’re in the right place I’ll release you.”
Mel grinned evilly.
“However, if you screw with me, I’ll drop a match on your ass, and let you burn. Deal?” Mel nodded. “Fine. Now, we wait.”
Tyler leaned back against the railing, and took a moment to relax.
*Like I said, things are looking up.*
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
“Ok, you ordered a cup of herbal tea and an apple pie. Correct?”
Thule looked up at the waitress from his menu, said, “Yes, that’s correct, thank you,” and handed her the menu. The waitress took the menu and went away towards the kitchen of the small café.
He took out a book from his pocket and began to read it, waiting for his guest. A few minutes later his tea arrived. He had barely picked up his cup of tea when a familiar voice called to him.
“My dear Andrew, tea and crumpets as usual. You seem to be turning into an English man day by day.”
Thule smiled and looked up. “What took you so long, Alaric? I was beginning to get worried.”
Alaric sat down in the chair opposite Thule. “Time doesn’t concern me much. But I am in a bit of hurry. Let’s get right down to business.”
“Why are you always in such a hurry? A man who’s got no time to lose. Whereas we mere mortals age.”
Alaric smirked, “You really haven’t changed. Now how are things going with the girl?”
Thule sighed. “She calls herself Tarix now and her memory is starting to return to her. But slowly and painfully.”
“I still don’t know the reason why she lost her memory in the first place.”
“Maybe there was too much trauma in her life. Maybe something in her mind snapped.”
“Or maybe someone cursed her?” Alaric interrupted, leaning forward slightly.
“This world is not all full of curses and spells and beasts. There are mundane threats in this world too.”
“She is a demon, Thule. Well, half demon anyway. I think she can take a little ‘trauma’.”
“It doesn’t matter. I have her talking about herself and how much she knows. I try not to remind her of the past but somehow she is catching on. She’s recalling through her dreams, like there is something in her trying to get out.”
“Maybe she is not occupied enough. Give her some work to do and that may take her mind off ‘things’.”
Thule took a sip of his tea. “Why are you afraid of her memory? The past is the past, like you used to say.”
“I am not afraid for myself, it is just that her memory could put her in grave danger. You know what I am talking about.”
Thule lowered his eyes; he still blamed himself for it. “Yes I understand. I am going to ask her to quit her job. Meanwhile I was looking for an appropriate place for her residence, I said the Order would take care of it.”
Alaric sipped his coffee. “I don’t have a specific place in mind at the moment, but why ask her to quit her job? We have a lot of enemies Andrew, it is better she stays at her job. It would protect her from dangers she won’t understand yet.”
“You have a good point.”
“Yes, um, where does she work, by the way. In a pizza joint?”
“No, in a burger joint.”
“Same thing, same junk greasy inedible food.”
“It’s called the Laughing Dogs.”
This got Alaric’s attention. “Oh, I know that place. Seems that I used to know the owner. Nice guy. Died of a heart attack. I believe his son runs it now.”
“That is correct. I researched the place for the sake of Tarix and found that the business is very legal and least concerned with magic as far as I know.”
“I believe there are good residential accommodations right behind the fast food joint. I think they are more livable then what you describes she lives in now.”
Thule thought about it. Finally he said, “I’ll go check it out. I am sure Tarix will be thrilled.”
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
“Oh my god, Thule! Right behind the Laughing Dogs? Are you kidding me?”
Thule’s face was a blank. “I knew you would be thrilled.” They were both at Thule’s place for their usual daily training.
“Thrilled!?!” her voice was rising, “I don’t think so! I thought joining the Order would be my rescue away from that greasy stinky place, not a closer relationship to it. And now you say that you want me to continue the job for tax reasons?”
“Well, it would look kind of suspicions for a teenage girl to be earning money doing nothing. This is a good way to avoid any investigations.”
But Tarix wasn’t listening. “You know how horrible it is. When I finish I am covered in icky, yucky, gooey, need I mention stinky grease. It takes me my entire weekend to get rid of the smell and feel normal again, and then I have to go back to work!”
“Why don’t you come and look at your new apartment. I am sure you would like it better than,” he paused, “your current exquisite place.”
Tarix just looked at him.
“Fine, then we agree. Come on, I’ll drive you there.” Thule walked towards the door and took his keys from the mantlepiece.
Tarix waited for a while, sighed and walked after him.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
The building was situated exactly where Alaric described it to be. Exactly behind the “Laughing Dogs”, much to Tarix’s dismay. Thule came out of the car and Tarix followed him to the apartment building. The building was actually not what Tarix had thought it to be. It was a clean and quiet place.
The apartment was more of a surprise. It was on the third floor with a nice view that the tenant could see from a small terrace. The rest of the apartment was spacious enough for Tarix. There were three rooms in total and a living room, each of which was larger then Tarix’s entire current apartment. But the most essential thing that made Tarix decide was the bathroom. It was like any ordinary bathroom with a nice tiled floor and shiny clean bathtub. There was a shower curtain already put up, and the sink was nice and clean too. Above the sink was a mirror, like any normal mirror, but nice and clean.
*After living in the cockroach infested, flee infected place, this is like heaven to me.*
She turned to Thule with her mind made. “I’ll take it.”
A big night for meeting at Bibliophile
*** Friday, September 2, 2005, around 7 pm ***
Daye stood behind the counter at the newly remodeled Bibliophile and took a deep breath. Finally, every chair, plant, and knick knack was in place and she could see the finished product. This was real, and so much better than the picture she’d painted in her head. All that it lacked was customers, browsing the stacks or arguing the merits of Coleridge versus Keats. It was perfect, just perfect.
“Looks pretty good, baby,” Drew came in from Daye’s office, wrapping his arms around her middle and cuddling her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head and gave her a squeeze. “This place is going to be booming by lunch tomorrow. You won’t have room for all the customers.”
Daye turned her face up to his, a sort of terrified expectation in her eyes. “Do you think so?” she asked. “I’m not sure. If we do get that many customers, I’m going to have to hire on more staff, though.”
Drew chuckled, unable to resist catching Daye’s mouth in a light, playful kiss. She sighed when his lips touched hers, heating things up with a sweep of her tongue across his mouth. Turning Daye in his arms, Drew settled her back against the counter and started kissing her in earnest. Daye eagerly responded.
“So, Miss Blaise,” a rather stern, but amused voice broke into their passion, causing Daye and Drew to jump apart rather guiltily. Daye caught sight of Mrs. Wyldling standing just within the doorway, surveying the scene with an arched brow.
“Mrs. Wyldling,” she exclaimed breathlessly, brushing past Drew to make her way around the counter to where the older woman stood. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”
Alicia Wyldling smiled sardonically at Daye. "I would imagine you weren't expecting me, considering what I just walked in on," she said. "I only just arrived in the city and I came right over. I wanted to see what you've done to my shop."
Daye smiled sheepishly at the other woman's words. Inside, she felt a smidgen of anger. She had worked so hard to make Bibliophile better and now she was going to have to hand it back over to Alicia Wyldling before she even had a chance to enjoy the fruits of all her labor. Wasn't that just like The Council, to let her do all the work, but give the reward to an older, senior member? Still, what could she do? The shop was ultimately theirs to do with as they would. She had little say in it.
Alicia scanned the interior of the shop, quite pleased with what she saw. The small, cozy interior had been opened up and expanded, to include the shop front next door. There was a restaurant in there now, which connected to the bookshop itself. Daye had added a loft in the back, creating even more space, and the interior of both sides of Bibliophile was warm and inviting. The remodel would undoubtedly prove to be an unmitigated success.
After appraising the new look of the place, Alicia turned her gaze on her young friend. Alicia could see the anger and frustration her arrival had caused the woman. Without question, Amanda probably assumed Alicia had returned to once again take control of the shop. It would be best to explain right away so there was no misconception.
"Look, Daye," Alicia began. "The place looks very good. You've done a great job here."
"But now you're back," Daye broke in, sighing.
"Yes, I am," Alicia agreed, "but this shop is no longer mine."
"What?" Daye seemed bewildered.
"I wasn't sent back to L.A. to take over this shop," Alicia replied. "I have other work to take care of here."
Daye broke into a broad smile. "You're not going to manage Bibliophile?"
Alicia shook her head. "No, but if you'd like, I would still love to work a few shifts here."
Daye was nodding, and taking Alicia's hand. "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Wyldling," she gushed. "I would love to have your help."
Alicia smiled slightly. "Well, then, why don't you show me around and tell me what all you've done here," she suggested. Daye nodded, indicating that Drew should take a seat while she toured Alicia around the shop. Glancing at his watch, Drew reluctantly agreed.
Daye and the other woman left the main area of the shop to take a look at the restaurant, and Drew came around the counter to slide onto one of the sofas, throwing an arm over his eyes and sighing. He and Daye hadn't managed to get out of this shop before ten o' clock all week. He was tired and really just wanted to spend the rest of the evening in bed with the woman he loved. "Why does this always seem to happen to us?" he asked no one in particular.
“Drew,” Jess was standing in the doorway, smiling at him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation with yourself.” She grinned and walked inside taking a look around at the newly done-up shop. “It’s looking good. I was just wondering if Daye’s here."
Drew jumped up at the sound of Jess' voice, embarrassed to have been caught muttering to himself. He smiled sheepishly at the young woman.
"Hi, Jessica," he said, rising off the sofa to walk over to where she stood. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."
Jess gave a slightly embarrassed look and came to meet Drew. “Sorry I made you jump. How have you been?”
Drew shrugged, "It's no big deal, I was just feeling sorry for myself," he said. "I've been okay. Busy, but okay."
Drew searched around, not seeing Daye anywhere close by. "Daye is showing Mrs. … uhm ...Mrs. ... Damn! What's her name again?"
Jess thought for a moment before the possible name came to her “Mrs. Wyldling? She’s back?”
Drew nodded, "Right, that's the one," he replied. "Yeah, she's somewhere over in the restaurant with Daye. Feel free to go after them."
“You sure?” Drew nodded and Jess made her way through the building to the restaurant. She entered the new restaurant and waited patiently for a break in the conversation between Daye and Mrs. Wyldling before speaking. “Mrs. Wyldling, Daye,” She looked from one to the other. Just thought I’d drop by to see how it’s going before tomorrow…”
Daye was startled by Jess' sudden appearance, but glad to see her friend nonetheless. She turned towards Jess, smiling brightly. "Oh, Jessica," she said, "I'm glad you came by. I was going to give you a call before I left."
Jess gave a slight questioning glance towards Daye. “It’s looking really good in here,” she said, smiling.
"Thanks," Daye looked around, proudly. "I was going to ask if you could maybe come in tomorrow and close up the shop. I want to be in the restaurant for the big opening. What do you think?"
“Sure, that’s fine. I was going to try and rally Ellie into looking at some school too, but I think that’ll fail miserably.”
At Jess' words, Mrs. Wyldling broke in. "Are you having trouble with your young charge, MissTravers?" she asked.
Jess looked around a bit uncomfortably at Mrs. Wyldling’s words. “It took her a while to settle in, she’s had a rough time, but she’s beginning to come to her senses.”
Mrs. Wyldling looked thoughtful, but said nothing to Jessica. Daye felt the tension and decided to try and defuse it. "How about we all go back to the shop and have a cup of coffee?" she asked. "We can catch Mrs. Wyldling up on things around here, and make a plan for tomorrow."
Jess nodded, silently thanking Daye for saving her. Ellie was a problem, but Jess was going to help her. She was determined she wouldn’t give up on her, unlike Will who insisted it was the best option.
Daye led the other two women back into the bookshop, passing Drew, who had apparently dozed off on the sofa. Daye smiled affectionately at him and then grabbed a pot of coffee and three mugs, heading out the front door. She led Mrs. Wyldling and Jessica to a table in front of the shop, and sat them all down. Once they were sitting, she pulled out her notes and began to go over the plans for the opening one last time with her friends.
The three women were engrossed in their discussion when they were interrupted by a voice.
"Well, well, well," the unexpected voice cut in, "if it isn't my favorite little shop marm and her cronies. Hello, Daye."
Daye looked up, her surprise quickly metamorphisizing into annoyance when she saw Ryan lounging on the railing that separated the outdoor dining area from the sidewalk. "What do you want?" she asked coolly.
Ryan was disappointed, but not surprised by Daye's cold greeting. Just as he had thought, the hold he and Mother Mariah had established over his ex-lover had weakened in all the time that had passed.
"I've come to see how you are," he replied, moving over to grasp her shoulder. Ryan smiled tenderly at Daye. "I've missed you, and worried about you, darling."
Ryan turned his attention on Daye's friends. "She just doesn't take very good care of herself, does she?" Ryan asked them.
Jess’ eyes followed the stranger who had just appeared. She presumed him to be Ryan. *Not good.* She tried to hold a blank expression, keeping the worry from her face. “You should go, you’re not wanted here,” she said sternly, standing to face him.
Ryan nearly laughed aloud at the girl's impudence. He reached out with his senses, feeling her power. She was a dabbler in witchcraft and a strong enough fighter, but her mind was no match for his power. She was of no concern. Ignoring Jessica standing before him, Ryan grasped Daye's hand firmly in his own and put on a wounded expression.
"I don't know why you want to send me away," he began, his voice a mixture of sorrow and hurt. "I only want to be your friend, Daye."
Daye felt torn by his words, the old endearment reminding her of a time when they had been happier. She sighed, rising to stand beside Ryan. "Ryan, I know you want to be my friend," she said. "It's just that having you around is... upsetting for everyone. Can't you understand? They don't know you like I do, and they don't think they can trust you. My friends, Drew, everyone, they just want what's best for me. No one thinks I should see you."
Ryan drew away from Daye, his expression anguished. "I see," he said. He began to turn away, then stopped and looked into Daye's eyes once more. "But what about you, love," he asked. "What about what you think?"
Daye seemed shocked by his words. She looked at Jessica and Mrs. Wyldling, her face stricken. "Maybe I should go with him," she said. "Maybe I should talk to him alone."
Jessica turned a slightly shocked expression to Daye and then glared back at Ryan. “Daye, please, listen. He has you wrapped around his finger. He’s different now…” She tried to reason with Daye. Maybe this was true, maybe it wasn’t but she didn’t want her friend in danger.
Daye looked torn. She knew that Jessica was only trying to protect her, but Ryan seemed genuinely distraught. Alicia watched in silence, waiting to see how strong this demon's hold was over the young woman.
"Ryan..." Daye stepped away from him, shaking her head. "I can't talk to you right now. You should leave."
Ryan felt his fury rising, but kept a tight rein on it. There was nearly no trace of his rapport with Amanda left. He had known this time away from her was damaging to their plans, but Mariah in her arrogance had believed it would make no difference. He could see that there was no point in pursuing this right now.
"All right, Amanda," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat. "I'll go. I'm sorry to have bothered you."
Ryan looked at Jessica, smiling in a nonthreatening way. "I'm sorry to have upset you."
Ryan turned and walked away.
Daye looked at Jessica, tears in her eyes. "Oh, what am I going to do?" she asked her friend.
Jess sat down as soon as Ryan had left and turned her attention straight to Daye. She hugged her friend in an attempt to comfort her; there wasn’t much else she could immediately do. “I really don’t know…”
Mrs. Wyldling cleared her throat, drawing the younger girls' attention. "Ladies," she rose, "perhaps I should be going."
Daye nodded, saying goodbye as the older woman left the table. Daye hastily wiped the tears from her face when she heard the door to the shop open.
"Don't say anything in front of Drew," she whispered to Jessica, before turning to smile at the man approaching from the door.
"Are you ready to go, Baby?" Drew asked, stifling a yawn. "It's pretty late."
Daye nodded, standing. "We're all done, right, Jess?"
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. You take care of yourself.” She offered Daye a nod and a reassuring smile.
"I will," Daye promised, her smile thankful. She took Drew's arm and went back into the shop to get her things and lock up. In a few minutes the two of them were on their way back to her apartment, but Daye's thoughts were on Ryan for most of the remainder of the night.
Romantic Dinner For 2
Friday, 9 September 2005 - 6.30pm
Soft yellow illumation flickered throughout the room, providing the only light. It shone on the polished wood of the table and glinted from Jade's best cutlery. A single red rose took pride of place in the centre of the table. Strains of soft music floated through the air. Jade frowned for a second then twitched the volume up the merest fraction.The frown was replace by a serene smile. Much better.
The air was filled with the rich aroma of Italian cooking. Jade's eyes lit up as she remembered the wonderful dinner she and Sorrow had enjoyed when they had first arrived back in L.A. *God, so much has happened since. It feels like it's been years instead of a month.* She rolled her eyes. *Hopefully this time, no rogue hunters are going to come bursting through the windows trying to kill us.*
After ensuring that everything was perfect, Jade glanced at the clock. *Tris will be home soon.* Whipping off her apron, Jade flung it aside and rushed into the bathroom to grab a quick shower and change. She had been planning this romantic night-in for days; figured that with all the effort Sorrow and her had been putting into their training sessions, they needed some time off to relax and enjoy each other's company. The fights between them might have been over, but Jade wasn't about to take anything for granted.
Fifteen minutes later, Jade dashed into the bedroom. The outfit she had bought lay ready on the bed. *Not that you'd call that an 'outfit' really,* Jade grinned to herself, refusing to let herself dwell on the state her credit card bill was going to be in at the end of the month. Victoria's Secrets had such lovely things after all... The grin widened as she slipped on the silk gown. After lacing up the bodice it fit her body like a glove, moulding to every single curve she had, giving tantalising glimpes of flesh to anyone who cared to look. Her hair was drying in a silken waterfall down her back, its ebony colour matching the gown and showing off her golden summer tan. High-heeled sandles completed the look.
*Seductive innocence.* Jade chuckled softly as she gave herself the once over. *Perfect.*
Just then, she heard the sound of the front door open. "Jade?" Sorrow's deep baritone got louder as he came towards the bedroom. Walking over to the door, Jade opened it, slowly coming into view. "You called?" Her smile was feline, her voice soft and sultry.
Sorrow stopped. His eyes took in the glorious vision before him. The smile that graced his lips was far from predatory, soft almost. Gliding towards her he took her in his arms, tangled his fingers in the laces up the side of her ‘dress’ and pushed her hair away from her face. Sorrow gazed lovingly into Jade’s eyes before his mouth descended to kiss her. For all the passion that Jade felt thrumming through Sorrow’s body his kisses were soft, tender. Drawing back a little, he smiled and whispered, “Hi.”
His fingers continued to tease the skin left bare by the dress as he moved his lips to Jade’s neck. He kissed and sucked at her flesh before slowly pressing her back against the door frame. Returning his mouth to hers, the tenor of his kisses changed, becoming hard, passionate and insistent. Sorrow drew back, leaving Jade breathless. He inhaled, “So, dinner first?”
"Mmmm..." Jade exhaled slowly and slid out of Sorrow's embrace. "Make yourself," she paused and gave him a pointed look, "comfortable." The gown's split skirt parted as she made her way towards the kitchen, offering Sorrow flashes of leg before she disappeared behind the door. She came out a few minutes later, carrying steaming, fragrant plates of pasta which she placed in front of Sorrow as he settled at the dining table.
"I cooked all your favorites." Jade slid herself cosily onto Sorrow's lap, ignoring his somewhat surprised look and giving him a saucy wink when he wrapped his arms around her waist. She picked up a plate, twirling pasta onto her fork and offered it to him. "I'll even feed you every bite, as long as you promise to keep room for dessert."
Sorrow leant forward and sucked the pasta off the fork. He reached to the table, picked up a fork. Gathering up some of the pasta, he presented it to Jade. “So long as you eat too - you’ll need your strength.”
Jade teased the pasta from the fork. “I’m sure I will.”
**********
Across town in a harshly lit room, a half dozen men and women gathered. On the walls around them were photographs and maps. Weapons lay on a couple of tables and on another lay the assorted paraphernalia of magic - books, herbs and crystals.
Michael Gemmel walked into the room closely followed by Amy Merrivale. Gemmel reached the front of the room and gesture to the others to sit.
“This is the final briefing for the operation which will be active from tomorrow evening.” Gemmel nodded to Miss Merrivale and a photograph was projected onto the board by Gemmel’s side.
**********
The pasta had pretty much been forgotten. Oh, they’d managed to eat some, quite a lot in fact, but when Jade had dripped a little sauce down her chin, Sorrow had felt compelled to lick it off and at that point they’d been lost.
Sorrow’s hand slipped under the skirt and traced circles on the sensitive skin of Jade’s inner thigh while he teased the lobe of her ear with his teeth. “Dessert?”
"In a bit." Jade laid her head on Sorrow's shoulder and sighed as he cradled her close. When she spoke again, her voice was low and oddly choked. "I love you Tris. So much sometimes I could burst with it. I know I haven't said that in a while, with all that's been going on between us." She lifted her gaze to his eyes and smiled, "Thought you might like to know that things haven't changed."
Sorrow leant forwards and brushed Jade's lips with his own. "I love you." He held her gaze and tried to convey everything he felt but could not but into words. He pulled her a little closer and let his fingers gently stroke Jade's bare skin.
"I love the way you make me feel when we're together... the way I feel when we wake up together in the morning. I love that despite the life you've lead and the horrors you've seen, you can still care deeply for others. You are one of the most beautiful people I know. I love that you challenge me, that you force me out of myself . Quite simply, I love you."
Jade's eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Sorrow's beautiful words touched yet another chord within her and she knew she would go on loving this man to her grave. "When I was younger, my parents use to tell my sister and I fairy tales before bed. I loved the happy ever after endings but as I grew older, I began to believe that they were just that. Fairy tales. I never thought I'd find a love like that. Especially when I lost my family... All those years running and hiding. Something in me died along with them in that house. I didn't realise it then. Didn't realise it till I met you..."
Jade swallowed the lump in her throat and gave Sorrow a watery smile as he listened quietly. "When I'm with you, whatever brought us together doesn't matter. All the craziness surrounding our lives doesn't matter. You healed something in me Tris, something I didn't know was broken. Your love, your strength... I..." Her voice broke and she buried her face in curve of his neck. "I found my fairy tale."
Sorrow slipped his arm under Jade's knees and stood smoothly up. "I'm sorry... for all the times I've hurt you. For the lies I told and the truths I kept from you." Reaching the bedroom, Sorrow gently laid Jade down on the bed and undressed. He settled onto the bed beside her and gently drew her back into his embrace. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. I... I never opened up enough to love. My heart, my soul, everything I am..."
And just like that, the small hole that had appeared in Jade's heart since she and Sorrow had started fighting about Xavier closed. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed contentedly as his mouth descended onto hers. The candles she had lit earlier in the evening flickered softly in the cool night breeze as she murmured softly into Sorrow's ear. "You're part of my heart, my soul, everything I am..."
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Saturday, 10 September 2005 - 9pm
The sun had set and the breeze filtering through the window was cool. Jade wondered if it meant that they were finally seeing the end of the hot summer they'd been having. She dressed carefully, slipping into a pair of black skinpants, a fitted black top and a broad leather belt, which she used to loop her dagger's sheath around her waist. She glanced rather wistfully at the jewelled dagger lying in the closet before slipping its plain, wooden counterpart in place instead.
*You're being silly!* Jade chided herself silently. *Tris is right. Silver won't kill the vamps. Vanity has no place here girl.*
Tonight was Jade's first night hunting with Sorrow. They had been training for almost a week and in that short time span, Jade knew that she'd improved a great deal in terms of agility and hand-to-hand combat. Tonight they would see if all the blood, sweat and tears of the last few days was worth it.
*Damn, I'm nervous.*
Jade swallowed audibly as she looked in the mirror. Deciding that the wooden dagger might attract more attention than she wanted, she reached back into the closet and took out a thin sweater. The material was comfortable and stretched down past her waist, neatly concealing the weapon from view. Jade cast another critical eye over herself and nodded. The outfit would do. It gave her complete freedom of movement and would help her blend into the night.
Sorrow walked into the bedroom and slipped his arms around Jade’s waist. He pressed his lips to her hair. “I’ll look into getting a sunforged one made. You’re nervous?”
Jade shook her head.
“It’s ok, I was terrified the first time I did this. I’ll be there for you…” Sorrow still wasn’t sure why Jade wanted to go hunting with him. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure why he’d offered. He turned her gently to face him and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “A couple of vials of holy water wouldn’t go amiss - there’s some in the lounge.”
As they walked into the lounge Sorrow realised Jade wasn’t the only one who was nervous. He’d never done this before; when he’d hunted with Tash or Reah he’d just assumed that they’d be capable of doing the job. Jade was capable too but he thought that she had a few doubts about that and Sorrow wasn’t sure what he could do to ease those.
They finished the rest of their preparations in silence. Sorrow looked at Jade and spoke, “Are we ready?”
"As ready as we'll ever be." Jade smiled at Sorrow as they made their way out of the door.
**********
The cemetery was dank and dark. The air seemed to smell of death, both old and new. Whatever noise the city made was muted, as if an invisible wall blocked it out, protecting the privacy of the dead.
Jade had thought it a little trite for them to stake out (no pun intended!) a graveyard for vampires but Sorrow had a valid point when he said that it was her first night and roaming the streets to sniff out a random kill could be done at a later date, after she'd garnered some vamp-slaying experience.
Jade suppressed a shiver, although she wasn't sure if it was due to the chill or the eerie atmosphere of their surroundings. She and Sorrow were standing in the shadows, side by side. Though they hadn't hunted together before, they'd been together long enough for them to anticipate each other's movements and little verbal communication was needed.
Feeling Sorrow tense, Jade's shoulders stiffened as well. Following the direction of his gaze, she saw four dark figures emerge from a crypt in the far end of the graveyard and head in their direction. "Ready?" Sorrow looked down at her and mouthed the word. She nodded, silently withdrew the wooden dagger from her belt and refocused her attention back on the vampires.
They didn’t anticipate an attack, these four vampires. Here, in their home, an attack was the very last thing they expected. Jade and Sorrow had circled to the vampires' left and when they struck, two of them were unable to come to their comrades' immediate aid.
Sorrow had left Hizashi in its sheath. The sunforged steel coupled with his augmented abilities meant that most vampires posed little threat to him in such small numbers. Since the whole point of this particular hunt was to ‘blood’ Jade, he had no wish to steal her kills. Instead he wielded a simple stake and essentially pummelled his foes.
Jade closed quickly with her opponent. Her height and chosen weapon meant she had to get relatively close to her victim. Fortunately for her, Wing Chun excelled at such close quarters and her sheer speed allowed her to counter the vampire’s attacks with relative ease. As the dust settled from her first vampire kill of the night, Jade was shocked to see their opponents had multiplied.
A dozen more nightwalkers had emerged from the shadows. "Tris! Behind you!" Even as she yelled out the warning, Sorrow was whirling around to plunge a stake into the creature's heart, causing him to explode in a cloud of dust.
A sharp sound marked Hizashi being unsheathed and the sunforged steel of its blade glowed in the night. The vampires, however, remained unfazed and continued to gather menacingly. At least six more had appeared and as skilled as Sorrow was in battle, Jade wasn't at all sure the two of them could handle so many attackers at a time.
Moving swiftly to stand by her lover's side, she unhooked two vials of holy water from her belt and flung them in the vampires' direction. A loud hissing told her she'd found her mark and she armed herself with with a few of the vials she had remaining. "Watch it fangface," she spat at the vampire standing nearest to her, "Or I'll make you swallow whatever else I've got before I cut your heart out." *Bravado is better than fear. Bravado is better than fear...* Jade swallowed hard, trying to ease the knot in her throat and belly and prayed that she looked as threatening as her words sounded.
Sorrow stepped around to guard Jade's back. Around them circled almost two dozen vampires. *Too many for us to fight.* The vampires continued to circle, and Jade and Sorrow slowly turned, trying to keep at least a couple of them in their vision. Sorrow quickly discarded the idea of trying to cut their way out and then running... Sheer numbers would drag them down before they got more than thirty feet.
Instead, he danced forward a couple of steps and managed to force the circle outward. Jade pulled another vial from her belt and lofted it into the mass of vamps before her. They skittered back away from the burning liquid and the combination of distractions was all Sorrow needed. He raised Hizashi high and before the vampires could rush him, incanted in Latin. The couplet finished and before Hizashi flared to painful brightness, he called out, “Eyes!”
The flare of light passed and the descending dust clouds were disturbed by the passage of something small and fast. With a hiss, four darts leapt out of the darkness to strike home against Sorrow and Jade. Whatever the darts had been tipped with was fast acting as a quiescent Hizashi slipped from Sorrow’s suddenly nerveless fingers. Jade crumpled to the ground. And through the rapidly falling veil of unconsciousness, Sorrow saw a shadowy figure approach.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Sunday 11th September - 4am
Sorrow woke up with a bad taste in his mouth and a pounding headache. At the moment he wasn’t sure if it was backlash from the spell or the after effects of his chemically induced trip to dreamland. Whatever the cause he really didn’t feel up to moving. He groaned as he opened his gummed up eyes. Looking around blearily, he took in his surroundings. The headstones and crypts of the cemetery were lit only by the light of the street lamps at its edge. The sky was dark even to Sorrow’s augmented vision. *Still pretty late then.*
He sat up and cradled his head in his hands. Someone had dragged him to a secluded corner of the cemetery far from any of the crypts. *Ok, someone was looking after my health.* Hizashi, still quiescent, lay by his side.
“Jade, are you all right? Jade?” Sorrow looked wildly around but could see no sign of his lover. He stood up and groaned as his muscles, grown still from lying on the cold ground, protested. Taking a moment to stretch out the worst of the kinks he quickly quartered the cemetery but could find no sign of Jade. Even the marks of their fight with the vampires had been expertly removed. Only his enhanced senses had detected the remnants of that fight.
Standing near the corner of the cemetery Sorrow strived to calm his breathing. *Keep calm. They obviously wanted her alive otherwise why the tranquilliser darts?* He went over the ground again but could find no further trace of either his unknown assailants or of Jade. *I need help.* With one last worried glance around the cemetery he turned towards Poplar Avenue.
Tash woke with a start, the shreds of nightmare fading even as she opened her eyes to the still-dark room. The pounding drums resolved into a frantic banging at her door. “Oh, not another apocalypse, please,” she groaned as she dragged herself to the edge of the bed and searched blindly for the floor with her foot. The baleful red numerals of her alarm clock told her it was barely after 5am. She glanced at Victor who lay motionless on the bed, apparently deep in trance. *Lucky bastard.*
“Yeah, hang on, hang on,” she muttered peevishly as the pounding continued unabated while she dragged a long t-shirt over her head for decency’s sake.
“This better be good,” she called out as she approached the door, “I only got to bed two hours ago.” Tash rubbed her eyes tiredly, “Ok, you going to tell me who you are?”
“Tash, it’s Tris. Please open the door, I’m not sure how much time we have.” Sorrow was pretty breathless. Whoever had grabbed Jade had also taken his wallet - with no I.D. or cash he’d been unable to get a cab and had had to spend a frantic hour getting back on foot.
Even through the door Tash could feel the fear and worry from Sorrow. Usually she got very little from him, even when standing right next to him. She fumbled with the door and threw it open on a wild-eyed and breathless Sorrow. All crankiness at being woken up vanished as she ushered him inside.
"What happened, Sorrow?" she asked anxiously.
Before he even had time to answer Tash was already moving through the apartment to collect weapons and get dressed. If Sorrow said there was no time to waste, he meant it.
Sorrow paced across the room and back again, too frantic with worry to remain still. "I'm not sure."
He stopped, looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath. Tash felt his shields solidify a little. “Jade and I went out hunting together tonight. We got ambushed… maybe once, maybe twice. We jumped about four vamps; Jade’s been coming along really well and we shouldn’t have had a problem. Anyway by the time we’d dusted the first two there must have been two dozen vamps there.”
Tash stuck her head out of the bedroom door while struggling to get her second boot on. "Two dozen? Holy shit!"
"About my reaction... I'm not sure where they all came from and I have no idea if we just had really bad luck or they were waiting for us. They got a shock though. I hit them with a spell, borrowed power from Hizashi. The blast of sunlight dusted them all. That’s when the second ambush got us. Somebody with tranq guns hit us both. When I came round she was gone.”
Tash emerged from the bedroom, settling her gun in place and double-checking her stakes and knives. She looked up sharply at Sorrow. "She? Jade?" Dawning realisation hit Tash and she felt the blood drain from her face.
She forced the words from her mouth, “Dead gone, or just gone gone? You mean taken, right? Don't you?" Tash didn't even want to think of Jade dead. No, Sorrow was frantic but not devastated. Surely Jade was still alive...
"She wasn't in the cemetery, no body, nothing and I think... I think I'd know..." Sorrow suddenly collapsed onto the sofa. “Oh god, what if she is dead?”
Tash felt as though a huge hollow had been excavated from her innards. She perched on the couch next to Sorrow and clasped his hand. "No, I think you're right. You said they used tranquilliser guns? Think - why would they bother with that if they wanted her dead?"
She squeezed his hand tightly. "We need to find their trail. Find out where they've gone." Tash made a wry face, "Damn, I wish Victor was more mobile." She breathed deeply and let it out slowly, "Well, if wishes were horses, as they say..."
“Victor’s not yet…? I was hoping… I went over the ground pretty thoroughly but they’d covered their tracks pretty well - I couldn’t be sure of anything. And a car? It’s not like it leaves much of a trail.” The despair slowly settled into Sorrow’s voice as he spoke. He glanced at the clock then at Tash. “Gods, it’s 5am! I shouldn’t have…”
“Yes, you should," Tash interrupted. Her eyes showed her concern, "God, Sorrow, of course you should." She searched his face, watching the walls go up behind his eyes as he strengthened the shields around his psyche. She sighed sadly but said nothing.
“Ok, then,” she said, turning to business, “How are we going to track these guys? If you couldn’t pick anything up at the time, it won’t be easy. Maybe I could pick something up from the ground.” Tash made a face at the thought. Laying hands on the bare earth of a cemetery was not her first choice of activity.
Sorrow just looked at Tash in shock. "All that pain, the grieving, the mental anguish - I couldn't ask you to... There's another way. I could do a locator spell; I have an apartment full of her things. It shouldn't be that hard."
"Spell? Sorrow, you've already used magic today. In the fight - you said you zapped the vampires. Another spell so soon? It'll knock you flat." Tash shook her head, "I know you want to do everything you can to find Jade, but that doesn't mean you have to do it all yourself."
"I know, I know, but there's the dust of two dozen vampires strewn around the spot you're most likely to get a reading from... are you really up to that?" The concern in Sorrow's voice was palpable.
Tash hesitated. She dropped her hands into her lap and looked down at them, the leather of the gloves shining in the lamplight. "I really don't know. But at least I won't be touching a living thing. That's always the worst." She looked up to stare frankly at Sorrow, "As you know."
Sorrow met her gaze for a long time before standing and offering Tash his hand. "Ok, but if it doesn't work we try the spell.”
Tash took the proffered hand and rose with a tight smile. "Done," she said. "Let me get the bike while you grab some of Jade's things - just in case.”
**********
The sky was still dark in the predawn stillness. Stars glimmered fitfully in the moonless night, offering little illumination here at the heart of the cemetery. Sorrow settled on his haunches a short way away while Tash paced around the area he’d indicated. He was right – little sign remained that there’d been any sort of struggle. If she hadn’t been told about it she doubted she’d have noticed even in the full light of day.
Finally selecting a spot Tash carefully peeled off a glove and squatted, laying the palm of her hand directly on the earth.
Grief. Loneliness. Misery.
An endless procession of anguished people paraded through Tash’s mind, too many to distinguish one from the other. They merged into one overwhelming cry of inconsolable loss. Gasping, she snatched her hand from the ground. A slight noise from the side had her raising her hand to Sorrow as she shook her head. She wasn’t about to give up yet.
Mentally steeling herself, she gently laid her hand back on the ground. That same wash of raw emotion threatened to engulf her, but this time she was prepared for it Wailing, growing louder. Such awful depth of grief. and let it pass through her. She concentrated on thoughts of conflict and suffered through several family arguments before she received an impression of Jade and Sorrow fighting a multitude The knowledge that loved ones will never again come home. of vampires. She felt rather than saw the flash as Sorrow’s spell annihilated the creatures. Desperately holding onto the thread of feeling, Tash tried to glean what had come next.
Humans. A small group. A sense of purpose. Malice towards Jade. Tash cursed the limitations of her ability, particularly when she wasn’t getting impressions from a person.
Loss. Loss. Loss.
Gritting her teeth, Tash did her best to ignore the terrible feelings of grief and suffering, and the stench of death that seemed to be filling her nostrils with its rank odour. *Show me Jade,* she willed.
Sorrow down, Jade down. Jade taken away. A sense of time passing… the cleaning up, perhaps? Then they faded from the memory of this patch of earth. Tash shifted, following the ones who had taken Jade. Following Jade.
She crawled over the dirt and grass, heedless of stones that cut into her knees and palms. Gone. Gone. Gone for ever.
Satisfaction. Where? It was such a quick flash. There – that bit of ground. Tash felt around, searching for that feeling of success linked with the impression of Jade. There. Jade lying in a box. A coffin? No… it had windows… The box was moving. Moving away. Dark. Big.
Tash lifted her hand from the ground and fell to her side, wondering at the trembling in her limbs. She got the impression it must have been happening for a while. And her face was wet. But none of that mattered. “They took her alive. In a van or truck,” she gasped to Sorrow as he leant over her. Then she took one shuddering breath and let out the decades of grief that had spilled into her during the past few minutes.
Sorrow enfolded Tash into his embrace and gently rocked her as she sobbed. “Let it go, let it go…”
The tears had started with almost the first touch, but Sorrow had stood by and watched the pain and anguish flow through her. The tenuous hope that Tash could find Jade had been enough for him to watch silently while the weight of decades pressed in on her soul and now all he could do was to hold her while the awful grief slowly passed.
*Alive!* Sorrow kept his elation locked securely behind his shields but the hollow sensation that had gnawed at him since the attack was gone. Instead it was filled with the knowledge that he would find Jade no matter what. For now though, he comforted a friend who had walked the shores of a personal hell for him and prayed she coped with all she had seen and felt that night.
Tash clung to the support she was offered until the wracking sobs finally started to subside a little. “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, her face buried in Sorrow’s shoulder, “but there were just so many of them. All feeling the same. Too many.”
She drew back slightly and wiped vainly at the tears that saturated her cheeks. “I’ll be ok, really,” she reassured him, not too convincingly.
He gave her another squeeze then smiled a little, “Let’s give it a minute. I don’t fancy you riding in this condition.” Sorrow reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief and handed it to her. “Thought you might need this…”
A dark van wasn’t much to go on he knew but hopefully with a little time and rest Tash would recall a few more details. If not, it looked like they’d have to resort to magic.
Tash took the handkerchief gratefully and used it to wipe her face dry. "You know, I'd never pictured you as a hanky kind of guy," she observed before handing it back. "And yes, I'll need a minute."
She composed herself, sitting cross-legged and closing her eyes to begin the centring exercises Matthias had first taught her so many years ago. Soon her breathing grew deeper and more regular, and she felt a calm peace fill her as she let her mind relax. Her eyes flicked open to settle on Sorrow's emerald green irises.
"I'm sorry. Dark van. Alive. Small group of humans. That's all I could pick up." Tash's expression fell. "I don't know how to track them from this point."
"Magic..." Sorrow sighed. As much as he wanted to find Jade, he hadn't done any major magic since the D'Nethk'Quan had been re-bound and though he was surprisingly free of backlash after the spell he'd used to destroy the vampires, Tash was right. Two spells in one night would no doubt lay him low. Sorrow took out one of Jade's bracelets and walked back to the spot where they had been attacked.
As Sorrow walked past her, Tash touched his arm lightly. "Are you sure?" She shook her head and answered herself, "Silly question. What else is there to do? Just - be careful, ok?"
Sorrow responded with a tight smile before placing the bracelet on the ground. He sprinkled a circle of salt around it and began to sing softly. The atmosphere in the cemetery grew still and slowly the bracelet began to glow. The soft glow, almost lost to Tash's eyes in the pre-dawn light, began to spread to the ground on which it sat. Like water slowly spreading it filled the circle Sorrow had marked and then slowly brightened.
Sweat sprang up on Sorrow's brow and the beginnings of pain could be heard in his voice as he continued to sing. The light began to fade and his voice became more strident. The pain was evident in Sorrow's bearing now. He stood almost as if he were trying to lift some enormous weight. Yet the light continued to fade. Sorrow continued to sing, his voice hoarse with pain, but all his efforts were in vain and the light died.
As the last glimmers faded from the bracelet Sorrow collapsed to the ground, in the grips of what appeared to be some sort of seizure.
Tash hated standing by helplessly, but she knew there was nothing for her to do as Sorrow struggled with the arcane forces. She was ready at the end, at least, and caught him as he began to fall, lowering him gently to the ground. Blood oozed from her lip as she bit it, watching Sorrow convulsing and unable to do anything but wait for it to subside. At times his back arched almost completely, and his eyes were showing the whites only. It seemed like hours, but the sky had barely grown lighter before the violent seizure slowed sufficiently for Tash to hold Sorrow's shoulders. Eventually his eyes lost their glaze and his colour began to return to normal, though his limbs still trembled intermittently.
Tash wiped away the strands of hair that had clung to his forehead, beads of sweat running down his face. His eyes showed intelligence again, but the pain was still there, too.
"You going to be all right?" she asked quietly. "I don't have anything to give you, I'm sorry."
Sorrow struggled to reach into a pocket and pulled out a small plastic bottle. His shaking hands couldn’t seem to grip it strongly enough. As he struggled to open the bottle Tash took it from his hands, opened it and shook out two pills. Sorrow smiled tiredly at Tash, took the pills and swallowed them in silence.
The palsy in his limbs slowly stilled; finally able to speak he tried for levity, “I think you’re going to have to call a cab.”
Tash looked back at the circle of salt and the bracelet lying innocently in the centre. "Uh, that didn't look terribly successful," she said, making a wry face.
“No, not really. There’s someone blocking detection magic. I got into a fight I wasn’t really equipped to deal with. I suppose Kate might be able to punch through, but if they’ve taken these sorts of steps I’m not sure…” Sorrow struggled to sit up a little.
“Miss Wiccham is a capable witch but I doubt she has the ability to find Jadyn through the defences that no doubt have been prepared. I, on the other hand, can find her quite easily.”
The owner of the voice walked slowly towards Tash and Sorrow through the gloom. "And though I'm appreciative of your efforts to find my daughter, Tristan,” Valerian looked down at Sorrow, “they do seem to have weakened you considerably.”
Valerian nodded towards Tash. “Natasha, your help is also appreciated.”
A cold hand clamped itself around Tash’s viscera and the fine hairs on her body lifted at the sudden proximity of this overpowering presence. She slowly rose to her feet and swallowed as she rubbed unconsciously at the crook of her left elbow, even though the skin was now smooth there. She dropped her gaze, recalling all too vividly the feeling of being trapped by those eyes. Of being drawn in – sucked into the infinite depths of his soul.
The one vampire she’d ever truly feared. The one who had come within a hair of turning her. The one who now stood before her, a sardonic smile on his perfect lips and confidence oozing from every pore. The aura of evil that surrounded him was so dense Tash felt if she reached out she might be able to touch it.
Swallowing again, she took a trembling step backwards and fumbled for a stake. *He’s only a vampire. Just another vampire. You’ve dusted hundreds. This one’s no different. He’s just a vampire…*
She forced her unco-operative legs to take her the half-step closer to Valerian necessary to put her between him and the still-prone Sorrow. Her eyes flicked up to the east, noting the rapidly lightening sky. Silently she willed the Earth to turn faster.
"The sun wouldn't save you," Valerian moved and before Tash could even react he was behind her. His cool fingers trailed down her neck and he leaned forward to whisper intimately in her ear, "And there is no fae this time my dear."
He moved again, "But as much as I would love to, my daughter’s irritating morals do grant you some protection."
At the delicate touch on her neck, Tash’s skin tried to crawl completely off her body. It was obscenely intimate and threatening at the same time. The tickle of his whisper in her ear was so disturbing that Tash barely heard his words, but by the time he’d moved away her trembling of fear had begun to turn to a quiver of anger.
A wordless cry escaped her lips and she lunged forward, her stake aimed perfectly for the point on his back that would penetrate to his heart. Sudden, sharp pain shot through her arm to her shoulder and the stake dropped harmlessly to the ground, her wrist held in a vicelike grip. Valerian bent her backwards so far that she lost her balance and was held merely by his grasp on her arm.
He leaned over her and shook his head, “Tut, tut, is that any way to treat your benefactor? Don’t make me have to teach you good manners, my dear.”
He released his hand, letting Tash fall the remaining distance to the ground where she lay rubbing her burning wrist. She turned her head to Sorrow who lay almost next to her and looked at him questioningly.
"What? You want me to save you from the rank stupidity of attempting an elder’s life in this condition?" Sorrow struggled to his feet. "What do you want, Valerian?"
"Why, to help you Tristan. I believed that was obvious. You spoke of a cab earlier - I have a car nearby. Shall we adjourn to its comforts?"
Sorrow smiled, “I think not. Brevity will be a virtue in these circumstances. Wouldn’t you say?” He looked to Tash who had regained her feet, reached out and touched her arm. She glanced to Sorrow then looked back at Valerian.
Valerian gave a sigh, “So much distrust… As you’ve surmised, Jadyn has been kidnapped. Her kidnappers have taken steps to conceal her presence from you. They cannot, however, conceal her presence from me.”
“So, ride to the rescue, strike down these miscreants who deigned to take what was yours and draw a grateful Jade back into the bosom of your family.” Sorrow’s voiced dripped sarcasm. He turned to Tash, “I think I can manage the bike.”
"Quite," Tash agreed acerbically. Butterflies still fluttered in her stomach and her blood ran chill at the thought of how powerful Valerian was, but something had subtly changed for her. She was terrified, certainly, but not to the point of being paralysed with her fear any more.
She turned to Valerian but, much to his amusement, steadfastly refused to meet his gaze. “Why do you even bother?” she questioned, “You know we won’t trust you.”
"Your lack of trust is not the issue, Jadyn's is. If I rode to the rescue how do you think she'd react?" Valerian shrugged, "I will wait. It's doubtful you will find her without me but I shall not underestimate your resolve," he glanced to Tash's gloved hands, "nor the depth of your abilities. Every moment you waste on trying to find her takes her further away though, and I can set you on their trail now."
Damn, he had a point. Tash looked helplessly at Sorrow, whose expression had turned dark. Every instinct in her screamed at her to run, to get away from this foul creature. Certainly not to entertain the notion of enlisting his help. But neither she nor Sorrow had the wherewithal to track Jade at this point. She doubted even Victor, if he were fit, could follow her now. And God alone knew what those people might want with Jade. Her mind was working overtime imagining all sorts of horrifying possibilities.
“Sorrow?” she asked softly, “It’s your call…”
Sorrow looked up to the sky and ran his hands through his hair. He turned to Valerian and crossed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Sorrow unflinchingly met Valerian's gaze. "There will be assurances."
Valerian gave a slow smile, "Of course."
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Sunday, 11th September 2005 - 6:45am
The long, sleek, black limo cast a shadow that stretched far down the street in the dawn light. Tash's skin still crawled at the thought of what lurked within the vehicle and she struggled to keep her back to it as she climbed the stairs to Poplar with Sorrow. Once they reached the haven of the hallway Tash opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Not here in the open. Casting one more significant look at Sorrow, the latest of many "I hope you know what the fuck you're doing" looks she'd given him since he and Valerian had made their deal, she squared her shoulders and wheeled the bike up the first flight of stairs.
Sorrow flung open the door to Jade's flat and Tash carefully set her bike in a corner of the living room, then rounded on Sorrow. "Ok, ok, I know all the reasons why we should do this, Sorrow. But geez - that's not just any vampire sitting down there waiting calmly for us, you know."
"No, it's probably one of the oldest still in existence and certainly one of the most powerful, and I wouldn't put it past him to have set up this whole thing." Sorrow shrugged, "Unfortunately we don't have any other options and let's be honest, if he had wanted us dead in that cemetery I'd be a corpse and you'd be waiting to rise."
Sorrow collapsed onto the couch rubbing his temples, "No, for whatever reason he wants something from us – me, and it looks like for now he's willing to bargain." He looked up and met Tash's gaze, "After that we run like hell and pray he doesn't feel like killing us."
"Do we truly have no other option?" Tash hugged herself, her thumb absently rubbing the skin at the crook of her elbow. "Kate's pretty strong - maybe she could break through that block. Maybe we could rig something so Victor could move. Maybe..." she stopped, aware of the rising note of panic in her voice.
She forced herself to breathe and started again, a little more controlled, "I've been afraid of vampires before - every hunter has. If you don't have that small edge of fear you die. But that one held me; held my mind, my body and my soul." She shivered, as though a cold breeze had suddenly passed by. "He terrifies me."
"Have you seen Kate recently? I haven't, and if we waste time finding Kate and she can't break that block? Jade's that little further away from us. If Valerian is playing games again then he'll have made certain that we have to come to him. If he isn't then he can muster powers we can't match. Yes, Valerian frightens me, I've fought him and I might as well have been an infant, but if I let my fear of Valerian blind me to his usefulness... I may never get Jade back."
Sorrow stood up and walked into the bedroom, pulling a suitcase out of the bottom of a closet he began to gather clothes and pack. "I don't like this any more than you do Tash, and I realise I'm putting my head in the lion's mouth. I just don't see anything else."
He walked back to the doorway to see Tash still standing in the lounge, her arm wrapped around herself. "I know you're frightened but can you get past that and come with me?"
Tash lifted her gaze from where she had been contemplating her feet and regarded Sorrow frankly. "I just hope I don't do something stupid because I'm running on the wrong set of instincts. But I won't leave you alone with that... that thing."
Sorrow walked over to Tash and pulled her into a hug. "Thank you. You need to let Victor know what's happened and pack some things - I'm not sure how long this is going to take but knowing Valerian even if he could lead us to Jade right now he'll want to play with us for a few days at the very least." Sorrow let her go and stood back a little. "Thanks..."
Tash made a wry face, "No doubt it'll be my arse being pulled out of the fire next time, or the time after. Our lives seem to go that way. Your turn'll come."
She opened the door and grabbed her bike. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't start the fun without me."
Ryan prepares to face Mariah
***Friday, September 2 late evening***
The Night Walker stalked the late night streets of Los Angeles in the grips of an impotent fury. He had been right to question Mariah’s actions. Daye was all but immune to his power now. It would take weeks of work to get her back to where they needed her. The Night Walker’s patience was growing thin. His hunger was a howling beast upon his back. It was time he confronted Mother Mariah and set an ultimatum. If she would not make a move, he was going to move without her. He wanted revenge, true. He wanted to make his beloved suffer for her betrayal, her heartless torment of him. He simply couldn’t go on wasting time on the effort though. Instilled deep within this beast who had once been a man named Ryan was an imperative to feast on the blood, the flesh, the life of Amanda Blaise. It grew harder and harder every passing moment to submerge that need.
The Night Walker came to his building, the gnawing inside him a maddening pain. As usual in this tawdry corner of the city a group of young women stood under the dim streetlights, waiting for a willing customer to sample their wares. Most of them were thin to the point of emaciation, obvious addicts from their shaking bodies and track marked arms. Ryan found them distasteful in the extreme. Tainted life force would do nothing to alleviate his hunger. However, one girl stood a bit apart from the others. She was plump and fresh faced.
*Just off the bus,* Ryan thought to himself, *She’ll do fine.*
The Night Walker approached the girl who watched him warily, trying to appear sexy rather than scared. She was failing, but he didn’t mind. The sight and scent of her fear actually did more to light him up than anything else would. Ryan could see the pulse pounding in her throat as he stood beside her in the shallow light.
“Looking for some company?” he whispered.
The girl nodded hesitantly. She was pretty new at this, but it would pay the bills. That’s what her roommate, Meadow, had said. They were both aspiring actresses, had met at a casting call downtown. Meadow had been in the city a few months, but the girl, Sarah, had arrived only two weeks before. She hadn’t thought it would be so hard finding a job, but there were a lot of girls like her in L.A. Meadow had invited her to share the little apartment above the karate school. It wasn’t in the nicest neighborhood, but it was warm and safe. The only thing was, Meadow needed help paying the bills. No one wanted to hire a naïve 16 year old from Nowheresville, Ohio. So Sarah had been desperate. Meadow said it was no big thing to go down to the street corner and pick up a guy. Plenty of rich, old dudes in L.A. would pay big money for a hand job or a blow job from a curly haired blonde corn-fed American girl. Sarah didn’t mind really. It was better than the times she’d done the same for nothing in the back of a beat up pickup parked in a cornfield.
Sarah didn’t mind what she was doing to pay the rent and to keep herself in corn flakes. It was just that she worried about some of the customers. The ones with the hungry look especially. Ones like this guy, with his movie star smile that didn’t reach his eyes. The eyes were what spooked her. They looked hollow and cruel. Still, he was real handsome, sort of dark and brooding like one of those old movie types that starred on The Late, Late Show.
“Maybe,” Sarah replied, trying to be coy, though her voice shook a little. “If you’ve got what I want.”
“Sure, little one,” the man’s voice had a pretty lilt that Sarah found soothing. He stared right into her eyes as he spoke. “Come upstairs with me,” he crooned. “I’ll give you everything you want, everything you need.”
Sarah found herself following him without even realizing she was going to. They entered the tenement building on the corner, ascending the litter-filled stairs to the third floor. Sarah felt woozy, sort of disconnected as she followed the handsome stranger into an apartment. It was dark inside, but clean, meticulously so. Sarah found it odd that the man didn’t turn on a light, but she said nothing. She followed where he led, out onto the shabby balcony where they stopped beneath the moon. The man released Sarah’s hand, which she hadn’t even realized he was holding.
"You’re very young to be alone in this city at night,” the man said, turning to study her. Sarah stared into his eyes, unable to move, unable to speak. “Little Sarah, you remind me of someone I know. She has golden curls and a little girl smile too.”
Sarah nodded dumbly, wondering when she’d told this man her name. He was so dark and beautiful, and she felt awkward here with him - not afraid, but unsure.
“Yes, you are like her,” Ryan purred, reaching out to draw the enthralled girl to his body. Her heat and life surrounded him. He could smell her, her youth and vitality. “Like Mariah. She plagues me. Amanda plagues me. You all plague me. I am hungry, always hungry.”
Sarah swayed weakly towards Ryan, her face upturned, her eyes dreamy. Ryan bent close to her, his mouth hovering over hers. “Sweet, sweet Sarah,” he murmured, dropping his mouth and drawing the energy forth through her kiss. As Ryan fed, he let the illusion melt away, revealing his true form. Sarah’s eyes fluttered open as she felt the strength draining from her body. She moaned in fear and pain, horror dawning in her eyes as she looked upon the dreadfully lovely form of The Night Walker. Finally, the light of life seeped out of her gaze and she slumped to the floor. Ryan let her empty body fall. He stepped away, momentarily sated. Now he was strong enough to deal with Mariah once again.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
September 5th, 5:00 pm, Robert Mueller Municipal Airport
Agents Harrison and Scott took the boarding passes handed to them and started for their terminal. Each walked slowly, deliberately, and stared at the floor like they would soon break it to pieces with a sledgehammer.
“So is he always like that, all pissy, or is he on his period?” Scott snapped toward his partner, who just kept walking, completely calm.
Harrison had seen this coming - Scott, who’d been calm, losing it over their boss’s attitude. He wasn’t surprised. After all, he’d been there. “Most of the time, yeah.” Harrison didn’t even look over.
“And we’re supposed to just put up with it?” Scott was stewing now.
Harrison knew it would make him more effective for the coming job. “You must have had an easy ass tour till now, soldier,” Harrison smirked, knowing full well it would piss his partner off.
“What the hell does that mean?” Scott was, naturally, livid.
As they reached their gate Harrison stopped and grabbed Scott’s shoulder. “You can’t have had it too hard, or you wouldn’t be so unbelievably stupid as to walk into this assignment without getting a jacket on the boss. Braddock comes from money, got his promotions for bringing some brass coffee, and was handed this because it was his daddy’s brainchild. That’s a good sign he’s an asshole.” Harrison paused a moment, “Plus, he’s general infantry, for Christ’s sake.”
“And you all just let it go?” Scott seemed bewildered.
“Yeah. Because no matter how big a dick he is, Braddock’s always right. We screwed the pooch here buddy.” Harrison started moving again.
“How?” Scott followed.
“With less ears around, Trey.”
Los Angeles, 5:00 pm, Outside of Bob’s Bar
Hyatt climbed the ladder and stuck his head out of the manhole, only to see the sun had fallen in behind the second tier of buildings.
“All right, Mel, it’s time to move.” Hyatt grabbed his captive by the hair and yanked him trough the hole, into the alley behind Bob’s. Mel groaned in reply as muscles which had tightened attempted to force themselves loose. The technical term is something on the lines of a Charlie horse. But Mel pushed on as Tyler dragged him by the hair out to the street, where a red Honda Civic was parked.
Then Hyatt opened the back doors and shoved him in. Tyler then walked around the car and got in himself. He pulled a stake out of his jacket and smashed it into the ignition, loosening the cover to pull it off.
*Christ, let this be worth it.* Hyatt’s thoughts started to turn against him as he finished the job and started the car. Then Mel started giving directions.
And Tyler drove.
Austin Texas, 5:05 pm
Collin sat in his office, papers filed, assignments given, done for the day. Or the hour. However long it took for some crisis to come up. But in the time between, he had time to himself.
So he stood and he took a step, so that he was behind his chair. Collin pulled back on a dusty, old copy of Henry V and the bookcase shifted, revealing another room. On the left wall of this room Collin had hung a small arsenal of firearms, covering everything that NATO permits and a few things that they don’t. Just below the guns sat a small projector and rolls of film, like what you saw in third grade.
And in the back stood a gurney, the type used to wheel people around in emergency rooms. Next to it were machines, a ventilator, everything one would need to keep a vegetable alive. A vegetable like the person who lay on the bed. He was a tired, old man, who clearly should have been dead a long time ago. But he was no vegetable. He was conscious. And as Collin walked over to him, slowly, deliberately, he stared with fear at Collin.
“Hello, Grandpa. Feeling well, I hope.” Collin hovered over the older man, predatorily.
Then shut the door behind him, so no one could hear the coming screams.
Los Angeles, 5:45 pm, outside the Beazor
Hyatt brought the Civic to a stop a good hundred yards from the Beazor and shut the car off. He then grabbed Mel’s head and pulled it up, forcing him to look.
“That it?” Hyatt asked, not paying attention.
So Mel took a chance. He jerked his head from Hyatt’s grasp and slammed it into his captor. Hyatt took the blow, only to find his head smacking into the driver’s side window. Mel then twisted and shimmied on the seat, moving his hands back to his front and biting the tape. Free from it he attacked, grabbing Hyatt’s head. Hyatt countered by throwing an elbow, knocking Mel away, followed by a fist into the throat.
Then the stake.
Hyatt stumbled from the car, holding his head, in obvious pain.
“Fuck!” But the pain subsided; Hyatt’s head cleared . And once it had he withdrew the gun from his coat and checked the ammo before slamming the clip back into the gun and walking toward the complex.
Madrid, Spain, 5:51 pm PST
There are places in this world that haven’t quite fallen the way LA has. Places where a person could drive for an hour and be certain, dead certain, to find a spot that hasn’t been touched by the wave of industry. Places of peace, of quiet. These are the sorts of places where a person can go to escape, to find peace, or just to hide when they need to.
That’s what Kelly Hyatt was doing when she flew to Madrid the first time. She was hiding, and doing a fine job of it. She and the boy she adopted with Tyler were living three hours out of the nearest city in a little cottage, located in the center of a rolling field of poppies, or some flower. All in all, it was quite a change from where they had lived; the quiet, subtle suburbia found on military bases.
But one day she came home from work - she works for a publishing company as an editor - to find a note on the door with an address at the bottom that led to a locker key, which led to plane tickets to Madrid. The note read:
Kelly had no idea what was going on, but knew her husband; he wouldn’t do this without reason. So she went. And Kelly had neither heard nor seen hide nor hair of her husband since. But life went on, such as it was.
Life, for Kelly Hyatt, meant that every morning she woke up and brought in a newspaper. She’d set it on the table and cook while Shawn rousted himself. Then they sat and they ate breakfast, most often silently. And she read the paper. Then Shawn left, going off to class while Kelly sat at a computer and edited for a few hours whatever piece was soon to be published by her employer.
Afterwards, at ten to six, Kelly made some tea, poured herself a cup and sat by the window. She watched the birds and the various local plant life that was in bloom. She pondered on Tyler, on Shawn, on the sister, family, life she’d left behind. She thought on friends lost and wondered why, why she was in Spain. She’d seen no danger. Then she tried, desperately, to talk herself into moving on, leaving Tyler.
But it never worked. She could never do it. And so she worked some more, and the day closed.
This was her life. Such as it was.
Los Angeles, 5:51 pm, backside of the Beazor
Tyler stopped just around the corner from the aboveground customer entrance to the Beazor. His back went to the wall and his head leaned against it. Just for a moment. And in that moment his head ran with images of his wife, his son. Then the Beazor, what Mel made it out to be.
Like descending into hell.
So Hyatt brought his hands to his forehead and said a small prayer. Then he turned the corner and passed through the line quickly.
Then he entered the Beazor.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
***Monday 5th September, 2005...20:43***
Sitting on the edge of a platform of the fire-escape stairwell that gripped to the side of 1318 Poplar Avenue just outside a window to her apartment, Reah’s leg dangled limply over the edge swinging back and forth on its own accord as she stared blankly at the last garbage bag she’d tossed out the window into the dumpster.
She’d been sitting there a while now. The last time she’d lifted her head was to watch the sun while it was setting. To her it was the most beautiful sight anyone could ever witness. She’d always thought that, although once upon a time it also held a great ominous feel about it. The realisation that it related to her had dawned. She was no less threatening.
Reah sighed and came to the conclusion that she had a healthy enough steel grate print on her ass to make checker-plate metal jealous.
Gripping the ladder that passed through the platform just at her side, Reah pulled herself to her feet and levered her leg to step back through the open window into the threshold of her now clean apartment. Honestly it felt rather empty now without all the trash… but with the trash was a rank smell that was still in the process of being ventilated out.
All in all it seemed better off and Reah felt ready to try and get back out onto the streets again. She wasn’t made to sit around, a pathetic mess in a pathetic mess till she died and was eaten by Alsatians, which quite frankly wouldn’t enjoy eating her because of parts worse than little bones that they could choke, slit their throats, or electrify themselves and die on! *Well, perhaps not being electrified.*
Reah wasn’t so sure, nor did she care. She had a purpose and it wasn’t to do that!
At the moment, though, what she needed to do was to get back into practise. Saturday had reminded her enough of that.
***Saturday 3rd September, 2005...14:34 - 1318 Poplar Avenue Basement***
As everyone filed up the stairs past Reah she was left alone watching Alice who was still lingering behind, gathering up all her equipment. It was so surreal she could barely believe her own eyes. How was she supposed to feel?
Alice lifted her head to look back at Reah staring at her before straightening up to stare intently back.
After a wait that still seemed to hang in the air, Alice walked over to Reah. Even with the day's events and her weakness from casting her spell, Alice mustered enough anger to yell, "Where the hell have you been?"
It happened. The first sign of life. Reah blinked after just standing there staring vacantly at the woman before her…*Again.*
Where the hell had she been? Reah knew all too well, yet in light of all her most recent events even what once seemed so solid and steady had been shaken right down to the very foundations she stood on. She knew where she’d been, but… had it all been erased? *I haven’t been anywhere… not here. I’m right back where I left off! Nothing's changed…but nothing's the same….* She didn’t belong in this society.
“Far away…” she started then hesitated. Her voice sounded so hollow! *I can’t tell her anything! She’s not the same… she doesn’t know.* “In my room.” She kept her gaze steady on Alice.
The heavy drops of water echoing off the walls from somewhere in the basement pounded against Reah’s eardrums, keeping a steady beat with her blood.
"Far away, in your room? Are you ok dear?" Alice put her hand on Reah’s shoulder, "What’s the matter hun?"
Reah’s eyes darted quickly to Alice’s hand as soon as it touched down and noticeably flinched back from the sudden contact. *This isn’t right.* “I’m fine. Just been regrouping over the last couple of days.” *I still have a job to do. It’s the point of all this after all isn’t it?*
Reah sighed audibly and stepped back out of harm's way. *God! It’s all I can do not to scream. Fuck OFF!* She suppressed the images that kept emerging and melding with the person before her.
Reah stood her ground and kept the disturbing nature that welled within her at bay. She had to stay composed and to the job at hand. “I believe there’s some business we need to take care of.” The words held no feeling as she relayed what she was trained to do over in her head.
"What business dear? Oh you mean the stuff from The Armoury! It's still safe in a warehouse. Here, let me give the keys." Alice open a small zipper pocket in her backpack and pulled out a key ring full of keys. “Hmm. It was this one I think."
Alice pulled the key off the ring and gave it to Reah. "I’ll have to write the directions down for you."
*Shit!* Reah cursed herself for slipping so carelessly. *Mind on the job! Mind on the fucking job! Nearly bloody buggered my bloody self completely! Don‘t do it again!*
Reah shifted her feet and took the key from Alice. *Had totally forgotten about this!* She sniffed, with a mirthful smirk briefly flashing across her face. “I’m sure I’ll find whether it’s the right key or not eventually by process of elimination.” She eyed the key thoughtfully. *That snake… Darling… hmm.* “Is Darling with it all?”
"Oh, Darling is just fine. It's well looked after and fed." A smile cut across Alice's face. "Would you like to go out and get something to eat? I’m famished."
Reah watched as she turned the key over in her hand and considered Alice's offer, running through it with a fine tooth comb before coming to a decision that seemed the safest way to go for the moment.
Shrugging, she said, “Not really that hungry myself at the moment. But maybe some other time.” She turned her gaze back up to Alice, ignoring the images that pasted themselves directly over her shoulder.
Reah inhaled deeply, and a strange urge tickled her nerves. She wanted the snake. She felt as though it might make her feel a bit better for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “Um…. Would… would it be possible for me to get Darling off you?” She paused, hanging. “Now?”
"Sure honey. It's back in my hotel room. Let's take your car. I took a cab here." Alice finished getting her stuff together and tossed her pack over one arm. "Ready dear?"
Reah’s eyes widened. *Hotel room?* She shook her head and turned about to head back up the stairwell to her room. She didn’t have a car, only her old bike… as if that wasn’t bad enough. *Just in and out. It’s daylight anyway. Don’t really feel like being seen in broad daylight… why the hell am I going then?*
At the landing of the stairwell just down the hallway from her apartment door Reah turned sharply around to face Alice, barring any further movement. “Um, I actually only have my bike. Bit difficult to ride a bike with a snake's case. Would you mind greatly if you just went back to your hotel and got Darling for me? I’ll give you the money later for the cab fare, I promise!”
"No need to pay for my cab hun. Should I bring it here?” Alice pulled out her cell phone and started to call for a taxicab.
Reah nodded mutely in reply and watched as Alice started talking when the opposite end of the line finally picked up.
Reah’s gaze drifted for a moment and noticed her coat had been thrown back when she’d turned so sharply, revealing one of her ares preditors. She quickly covered it back up again while Alice’s attention was elsewhere.
Alice’s attention focused back on Reah after getting a cab on its way. "Should I come right back?”
“Um… yeah. That’d be good.” Reah’s eyes darted about nervously. She hoped she was doing the right thing, her stomach was in a knot and making her feel sick just thinking about it all. “Just knock on the door frame when you get back. The door's… busted.”
Reah’s finger ran thoughtfully over the bridge between Darling’s eyes as she paused at the snake’s case on her way to the front door with its new lock, comprised of a chair, to follow out after the sun.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
It had been quite a while since she had set foot on LA land again. *A long time, but nothing is forgotten* She remembered it all like it had been yesterday, burned into the back of her brain until she could not think straight any more. She opened her eyes and looked around the streets. Some people were walking, enjoying the day light, while others were too busy getting on with their lives.
She moved among them and started to walk, sometimes feeling rather lost. She passed a cinema, a parking lot, a woman with a pram, and kept moving. She didn’t care for anything any more. All she wanted to do was find her.
She had honed her senses and tried to feel the auras of people around her, but she still couldn’t find what or who she was looking for. *Damn, where could she be?*
Soon she passed a vampire feeding on a helpless human on the streets. She stopped and looked at it for some time. It looked back and snarled at her, clearly not enjoying someone watching him feed. When she didn’t move on he snarled again.
“What are you looking at, don’t you know it’s rude to stare? Move on before I decide I want dessert.” And he went back to his dinner.
She realised that the vampire was out in the open and not getting burnt up. She looked at the sky and found that the sun had gone down. *Well, the hours passed me by quickly.* She didn’t even look back at the helpless woman in the arms of her predator before moving on.
*I can’t wait to get out of here. After I find. After I meet her again. And, oh yeah, after I kill her.* A small smile lit her lips and she started to hum to herself.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
***Monday 5th September, 2005...22:07***
Night cloaked LA as Reah traced her old routes around through its overlapping, ever changing streets.
She admitted that the fresh air that brushed cool fingers across her cheeks and filled her lungs with deep replenishing breaths was a much welcome change to the stale, humid air that suffocated her with every intake and motion within her apartment.
It was still pretty early, only just after ten o’clock, and so a few people were still occupying the same streets as her. She kept clear of each one she spotted *One step at a time. I’m at least walking the streets again.* She shrugged off a slight chill that was not a result of cold air breaking through her layers of clothing.
The city had altered again. The area had become something that was usually considered the more bad side of town. She hadn’t seen any people down here for the past ten minutes, and from her memory she didn’t expect to see anyone here either. Well, except for maybe those of the ‘unnatural’ sort - occasionally the rare crazy homeless person would arise, but it never happened often.
Reah blinked as one of those rare moments just happened right there a bit further down in front of her, hidden by the shadows distance usually provides at this time of night. *Freaky!* She judged it as human by the form she could make out… a man from the looks of its build and the increased body heat around the groin area. At one stage, a couple of years ago that would have made Reah snicker. She’d grown accustomed to it by now however.
*Wait!* Reah blinked and slowed in the process of stepping into the gutter to begin crossing the street and looked closer at the form as it suddenly seemed slimmer and more feminine than her first judgement... much slimmer! In fact she’d swear it was female now! Was she tired? Did they change? Were her eyes playing up?
Reah shook her head, dismissing the last thought and stepped back up onto the pathway heading towards the figure to find out what was going on.
***
She was getting tired now. It had been about six hours. *Seven,* she decided looking at her watch. She passed by a shop and looked at her reflection in the clear glass. What was reflected was a man in his thirties, slightly bulking, with hazelnut eyes and a broken nose.
She glanced at herself again. *I am quite handsome, if i say so myself.* She yawned and felt her power draining. *I'd better change form.* She looked around and found a few bushes and a tree near by. She walked there and furtively looked around again. No one was there. Then she started to change.
First concentrating on her body, she felt it become thinner, also feeling the clothes starting to loosen. Concentrating on the face, the nose grew slightly longer and the skin softened. The hair changed colour from black to golden and started to grow until it reached her shoulders. When she finished she quickly grabbed her trousers that were slipping off, and started to tighten the belt.
“Having trouble with your pants there?” Reah speculatively eyed the girl clutching the waist of her pants bunched up in small fists.
She jumped at the voice and almost dropped her trousers. She whipped around. "Who are you?"
“Just a fellow pedestrian wondering the streets. Although people generally call me Reah instead of ‘fellow pedestrian’. You?”
She eyed the girl suspiciously. *How much had she seen?*[i] She looked Reah up and down. She had a toned, fit body, pretty eyes, and nice golden hair that reached her shoulders. [i]*A face that reveals nothing, hmmm…*
"Well, I am just a girl, out on a the streets for a walk. Same as you." She looked down and realised Reah eyeing her fist that still clutched at her trousers, and started to blush.
Reah turned the corners of her mouth up into a smile for the wary girl. *Don’t scare her… if it is a her! Information doesn‘t come very well from people running in the opposite direction.* “Get caught in your boyfriend's house by his parents and accidentally take his clothes instead of yours while you bolted, I take it?” She smirked, “I can sympathise with you on that. What’s your name?”
Could she tell Reah her real name? *No, I better not.* She started to tell her a fake name, a name that meant nothing to her. A dozen names to chose from sprang up to her throat but died there. She looked at Reah's face and saw a friendly smile.
"Jessy. My name is Jessy," she finally replied. *D'oh* She mentally kicked at herself *Maybe I shouldn't have told her.*
She forced a smile on her face. "And yup, only it was my boyfriend that kicked me out. I grabbed his favourite trousers for revenge."
Reah grinned deviously. “Good work. The shirt too apparently! You know, those things make good rags around the house. Did you want a protector to walk you home in case he comes after you in a screaming fit of rage?”
Jessy smiled, a genuine smile this time "Ummm... I don't think so. I kinda took care of that. He's probably at his house still screaming in pain. Screaming in a few high octaves, if ya know what I mean..."
“Dead set.” Reah’s grin peaked her eyes. She felt so evil, but memories of past boyfriends were all too delightful to just subdue them.
The ‘girl’ was suspicious, but what could Reah do? She wasn’t threatening her, and as far as Reah was concerned, so long as she stayed that way and didn’t attempt to rip her head off, Reah couldn’t care less what she was about.
Reah opened her mouth to farewell the girl when she noticed faint humanoid forms off in the distance and approaching… fast. “Well darn, would you look at that.” Reah’s smile faded from her eyes.
Jessy noticed Reah's disappearing smile. She quickly grew grim as well. *Now what?* She tightened the belt around her trousers and whipped around, ready.
She saw a group of four appearing. She felt their aura. *Damn vampires.* "They're vampires," she shouted out, ready in her battle mode. Then wondered whether this girl, Reah, knew what they were. *Great I get to attack and protect, just what I wanted. Why can't these helpless females stay at home?*
Mentally, Reah smirked. *Only four against two… should be simple enough. Trusting that this ‘girl’ isn’t all she says.*
What appeared to be the lead vampire increased his stride, putting himself at the front of his group as they approached the two girls. “Now what’s this? I believe you girls are trespassin’ on private property here!”
“Actually I believe this is a public area. It’s just the smell of its locals that keeps people away, giving you the false impression of it being your property.” Reah twisted her nose with a smirk before spitting at his feet.
The vampire snarled, “Stupid girl. Do you have anything you’d wish to say before we dispose of you?” He pinned his gaze on Jessy.
*Oh Great, spit at them won't you... make them more upset. God, people these days* "Me?" Jessy said innocently, but with a mischevious glint in her eyes, "I am not much for words, only this..." and with that she lurched forward.
She punched the leader in his nose, and as he toppled over in pain she jumped and kicked the vampire on his right. The lead vampire straightened back up, all vamped out, "Bitch!" he spat and tried to grab her back.
Jessy was having difficulty with her fighting techniques. *Damn I should have morphed into someone like Jet Li first, oh well.* As soon as she had kicked the second vampire in the groin she knew she was a goner. It seemed that they had left Reah alone. *Maybe I can make a run for it.*
*Eager aren’t we! Definitely either not human, or not sane.* Reah figured her help was required here and stepped forward to join in as one of the vampires from the back of the pack leapt up, driving straight for Jessy.
His flight came to a sudden halt when Reah’s elbow suddenly flew up out of nowhere and hooked him in the jaw, slamming him around to the ground with a loud crack filling the chill air as her heel dug into his throat and crunched his vertebra, reducing him to dust on the street in a matter of seconds.
*Ok… that was a bit easier than I remember!* She tossed around the idea of pulling out her katana or whether she should try intendend hand to hand with one of these guys for the first time.
Thoughts distracted her and decisions were made for her as another vampire came up from behind, nearly capping her on the head before she ducked under it and sent the creature flying as she followed through with a roundhouse kick.
Jessy saw Reah start to fight with her. *Well, at least she’s useful, not bad!* With added encouragement she went to work on her butt-ugly faced “friends”. She jabbed one hard in the stomach and grabbed the second one by the head.
Before he could do anything she quickly twisted his head to the left and with a loud crunch the vampire turned to dust. She also saw the lead vampire turn to dust in front of her.
*Wow Reah! Didn’t know she had it in her…* But her thoughts were interrupted by the third vampire snarling behind her. She was quick to observe that only two were left. One was combating with Reah, while the other was right in front of her.
“Now don’t I feel foolish for not bringing any weapons with me,” Reah said out loud, just in time to grab the leaping vampire and using his own momentum to throw him backwards.
Jessy turned around just in time to see the helpless vampire pinned to the tree with a branch sticking out of his stomach and groaning in pain. “Awww, poor vampy, here lemme put you out of your pain and misery.”
Snapping a nearby branch off the same tree she stabbed him straight in the heart and saw him turn into dust.
Reah moved back up into her vamp's area of reach as he’d just picked himself up off the ground and didn’t wait before slamming him hard in the cheek bone with her fist, breaking it with enough force to also knock him off his feet to the side again. She continued onto him, following through. Gripping his short hair in her fist she gave him a helpful yank up to his feet.
“Please ff….” Reah began before the vampires leg somehow kicked up into her ribs, knocking her back and retrieving his head from her prised grip. “Bloody…! You little…”
“Shit, what the hell are you wearin’?” The vampire stared in astonishment, till Reah’s open hand slapped across his face on his broken bone, knocking him off balance again. He screamed in pain clutching his cheek with one hand while his other hugged himself beneath his jacket.
Reah curled up her fist around the collar of his shirt and lifted him clear off the ground, knuckles to chin. “Now why the hell’d you go do that?”
“S-sorry! It w-was a m-m-mistake!” he whimpered in her clutch before composing himself in a complete and steady calm, “I meant to do this.” As he pulled a gun out of his jacket and held it point blank at Reah’s forehead. “Like to see you dodge this.”
The cold tip of the gun pressed hard against the creasing frown on her forehead. Reah’s grip on the stake in her hand quivered with aggravation. “I guess the deal is something like; if I move this stake at all I get my head blown off?”
“That’s it.” He grinned wickedly around her grip.
Reah’s clutch on the stake relaxed and she returned the grin right down to the gleaming eye, causing his own grin to falter in concern. His chin pressed harder into her knuckles as he tried to get a better look of her face.
Reah beamed. It couldn’t be more perfect. “How's your head?”
“What?” was his last word before his head snapped back and convulsions violently raked his body until it dissolved to dust, covering the fallen gun on the ground.
Reah smiled, pleased, and turned about with her fist hidden behind her back while she checked on Jessy…*…who has disappeared off the face of the earth!?* Reah darted her eyes back and forth, twisting around and searching for any heat signatures but found nothing beyond a dog that was eating out of a bin on the opposite side of the street before scampering off up the road.
“O…kay.”
Jessy realised she was feeling exhilarated. *Now that was nice to stretch some muscles and do some exercise,* she thought, smirking at her achievement. She turned around and saw Reah still fighting, but gaining on her enemy.
*This would be a good time to leave.* With one last look she got down on all fours and started to morph again.
She saw her vision changing and her arms and legs shrinking and then snapping into place. Fur grew all over her body and she felt the clothes drape on her even more. She crept out from under the clothes and gave a good shake for measure. *Well, at least the vampire was half-right, I am a bitch, now,* she thought with a smirk.
Her senses more alert she looked back and saw Reah had finished. *Bye Reah, interesting meeting. Hope we meet again.* and with that she turned around and ran away into the darkness.
josh and daye worry about melissa
***Saturday, September 3, 2005, early morning***
“We’re out of those, Miss Blaise.” Josh stood behind the counter of the restaurant, a sort of helpless expression on his face.
“Out of them?” Daye pushed a distracted hand through her hair, coming around the counter. “You baked four dozen last night, Josh.”
Josh nodded. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I did, but I’ve sold every one.”
Daye laughed, a soft, incredulous sound. “Well, I’ll just go over and make a note on the special board. No more filled croissants.”
“And no more cranberry or chocolate muffins, either, Miss Blaise,” Josh interjected.
Daye shrugged, turning towards the white board where the specials of the day had been written. She was bemused by the crowd that filled the restaurant. This was a much grander opening than she had anticipated. Daye made the notations on the board, took two more orders and delivered food to three tables before she was relieved by Mrs. Wyldling. Jessica was manning the counter in the bookshop when Daye finally made her way back towards the office. One of the girls who had worked at the shop part time before the remodel was busy handing out coffee and pastries and directing customers to books on various subjects. The whole shop was filled with a buzz of conversation and the comforting smell of fresh coffee. Daye grabbed her mug of herbal tea and retreated to the quiet solitude of her office.
Daye sat behind her desk and sighed. There was no way the shop or the restaurant could function with the number of staff she currently employed. She would have to start taking applications and setting up interviews as soon as possible. She could spend all day Monday doing just that if she could get in some temporary workers for the rest of the weekend. Daye pulled out the phone book and began making calls. Twenty minutes later she had advertisements running and people coming in to cover shifts until at least Wednesday. Finally, pushing away from her desk, Daye leaned back in her chair to sip her tea, taking a short break before heading back out onto the floor. Just as she was relaxing, there was a soft knock on her door.
“Come in,” Daye called out wearily.
Joshua poked his head in the office slowly. “Miss Blaise?”
“Yes, Josh,” she said, “what is it? Are you out of something else?”
Josh shook his head. He seemed disturbed, even distraught. “No, ma’am, it’s just that Melissa’s not here yet.”
Daye’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Melissa Blue hadn’t shown up this morning. She’d been so busy that she’d failed to notice until Josh mentioned it. “I’ll call her right now,” Daye said.
“I already tried that, Miss,” Josh said. He looked just miserable. “She’s not answering at home.”
“Well,” Daye was perplexed. “I… I don’t know what to say, Josh. The only thing we can do is wait. Hope nothing is wrong.”
Josh nodded. “You’re right,” he sighed. “I just feel… I don’t feel right.”
Daye rose from her chair and moved across the office to lay a gentle hand on her chef’s arm. For such a big man, Joshua really had a kind heart. He and Melissa had recently grown close, and it pained her to think he might have reason to worry. “I’ll let you know right away if she calls, okay?”
Josh nodded. He turned to leave the office, his expression bleak.
Daye followed Josh out of the tiny room, heading back to the busy shop, but part of her mind was on her missing waitress. Melissa didn’t call all that day or the next.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
The crispy night air blew across the alleyway and turned a plastic bag upside down, then carried it on to Tarix’s feet. She looked down, sighed and kicked it away and set the trash can she was carrying down on the ground. With the back of her hand she wiped the sweat and heat off her forehead and just stood there. Feeling the air, the smell swirling around her, feeling it pick up and die again. She felt her nerves start to relax more than she ever thought they could. All her worries and problems dissolved into a small whirlwind.
Her eyes still closed she breathed in and out, feeling the each and every breath. She had never felt so relaxed. She opened her eyes and smiled. *That felt good.* She looked down and to her amazement the trash can was floating ever so peacefully two feet in the air. She knew she had done this. On instinct she carefully held out her right hand and tried to focus her energy just as Thule had told her to. Thule had tried to train her to use her powers, but those lessons hadn’t been such a success, until now.
Channelling her energy she gave the trash can a little imaginary push and to her delight it moved backwards a few inches. She tried again, this time trying to push it upward, then to the right. Somehow she was doing this and the feeling made her feel special, like she finally knew something about herself. All the fear and anxiety that had built up inside of her was slowly melting away.
She was content with herself. She looked around the alleyway, her hand still held up and saw there were three other trash cans lying around. *I wonder?* Without moving her right hand, she brought her left hand up and held it towards one of the trash cans. Slowly, trying to focus more energy, she tried to lift it. It took a lot of power, and she felt herself tire slightly, but it worked. The second trash can lifted up.
She brought it towards the first floating metal can and made it balance on it. She tried it again with the other cans and soon there were four cans on top of each other floating in the air. She seemed to be tiring more quickly now, but she didn’t want to give up now. She started playing around with the trash cans, slowly juggling them through the air.
“TARIX!!! Where the hell are you? Jesus!”
Suddenly distracted, she gasped as all the trash cans came down together with a loud crash, one after the other.
Her boss stuck his head out of the back door. “What the hell? What happened?” he demanded, his eyes full of shock at the sound and at the sight of four trash cans and trash sprawled all over the alleyway.
Tarix felt angry at being disturbed but turned around and shrugged. “Must be cats,” she said before going back into the fast food place.
Her boss took one last look before coming back in. “Must be some big cats,” he muttered under his breath.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Sunday, 11th September 2005 – 7am
Riiiinng.
“C’mon, c’mon! Pick up the damn phone.”
Riiiinng.
“It’s already 9am there, you lazy son of a… Oh, hi Ian. How ya doing?”
Victor had to smile at Tash’s sudden change of tone. If he’d bothered to try, he knew he could listen to Ian’s half of the conversation too. But Tash had roused him from a deep meditative state and frankly he couldn’t give a damn. Instead he lay on the bed and experimented with flexing his neck muscles to see how much strength they’d gained, while the phone call went on in the living room.
“Well, yes, I know it was Saturday night last night…”
“Yes, I’m sorry...”
“Ian, just hang on a sec…”
“Yeah, I really am sorry.”
Victor heard Tash heave a deep sigh before she launched into it again.
“You can take a couple of aspirin in a minute. You know I wouldn’t bother you unless I really needed you…”
“Yes, I know you’ve more than repaid me in favours, but hell, what are friends for, Ian?”
The sinews on the right side of his neck seemed to have joined together nicely, but the left side was still a little weak. Victor doubted he’d be ready to get up and about for another few days, at least.
“Well, it’s Victor, really. He was in an accident. I’ve been looking after him, but something’s come up and I have to go away for a few days…”
“If you must know, I’m helping out a couple of friends…”
“No, I don’t need you to do anything dangerous. Nothing to break into this time – just please, I need someone to keep an eye on Victor for me. And Ian, you’re my oldest and dearest friend. Of course I’d think of you first.”
Victor chuckled. Naturally Tash had rung Ian – all of their local friends were either in no fit state or weren’t to be found. His thoughts turned back to the news Tash had hurriedly blurted out to him just minutes before. Jade kidnapped. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if it were Tash who had been taken.
Actually, yes he could. He’d want to rip somebody’s head off.
Tash’s voice cut through his reverie. He seemed to have missed a little of the conversation.
“Thanks, Ian. You’re a doll. I knew I could count on you. I promise, only a few days. You won’t have to do much – I just don’t want to leave him alone for too long. He’ll be fine until you get here. I won’t bother leaving a key outside for you – I know you can get in…”
“Yeah, I owe you one. Thanks. I’ll see you in a few days when I’m done.”
Tash’s drawn face appeared in the doorway. “He’ll be here sometime this evening,” she said.
She grabbed the half-packed bag and continued stuffing clothing and weapons into it, knowing that every minute wasted here was one more minute Jade had to endure whatever personal hell she’d been plunged into.
Victor could sense her anger and resolve – and her fear. An unusual level of fear for her. The acrid stink of terror rolled from her. She smelled like she did when she woke from her nightmares.
“What is it you haven’t told me?” he asked quietly.
Tash looked up from where she sat cross-legged on the floor, startled by the suddenness of his question. One corner of her mouth twitched and she shook her head. “I can’t keep anything from you, can I?”
Victor said nothing, but his eyes bored into hers and Tash grew uncomfortable as he silently challenged her evasion.
She rose and settled on the bed next to him, taking his hand and pressing it to her cheek. “Neither Sorrow nor I can track Jade. Whoever took her blocked their trail with magic. But there’s one who can find her, and he was there.”
She dropped her eyes and whispered, “Valerian.”
Swallowing, she continued with false bravado, barely pausing for breath, “He scares the hell out of me, Victor, but Sorrow was right – he’s the only way we can find Jade. And we know we can’t trust him. And even though he’s an Elder, Sorrow and I are good at our jobs. We’ll be ok, I’m sure.”
Victor concentrated on lifting his arm, and let his fingers rest on the soft, unblemished skin at Tash’s elbow. “I know that even though the scar is gone you still carry it. You’re right to fear him – he’s powerful. And for all your abilities, you’re a mere human. But you can’t let your fear control you. If you must parley with him to find Jade, then do so. But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you not to turn your back on him.”
Tash’s mouth curled in a small smile. She leaned down and kissed Victor tenderly and lovingly. “I know. But it’ll be ok. I’ll be back before you know it, love.”
Disengaging from him, she picked up the bag and hefted it onto one shoulder. “But I really need to go. Every moment counts.”
Victor blinked his acknowledgment. “I know,” he said, “Go.”
“I love you, Victor.”
And Tash whirled out the door and out of the flat.
Victor lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
The apartment was covered in darkness, like a black veil covering every inch. The door opened and Tarix came in, back from her job. She sighed as she looked at the dark apartment and switched on the light. Suddenly a yellow light now flooded every inch that was once dark.
She had decorated her new place simply, because she liked it that way and because her budget wouldn’t allow anything more. She had bought two new couches from a flea market, which were set in the living room. A small TV gotten from a discount store was also in the living room, placed at one corner. In the middle of the two couches she had kept a large rug and a small coffee table over it. The walls, which she had repainted white, had small murals hung, also from a flea market.
Her room was even simpler with just a small bed, a closet and a body-sized mirror in a corner, next to a fold-up chair. She wouldn’t have been able to even buy this much if it hadn’t been for her check from the Order of Valor, and a small loan that Thule insisted on giving her to get her settled in.
She had to admit this was more homely then before and a lot more comfortable. She went to her bedroom and threw her purse on the bed. She made her way to the bathroom to get freshened up.
By the time she came out she had changed into something comfortable. She thought about what she was going to do tonight. *Nothing, as usual, maybe read a book if I get too adventurous.* She walked over to the terrace, opened the glass window and stepped out into the night. The view wasn’t much but it was something. She thought about what everyone in LA would be doing. Dating? Getting drunk? Watching a movie? Having fun? She couldn’t remember the last time she did any of that.
She thought about calling Thule and telling him of her discovery, but that could wait until tomorrow morning when he saw her for training. She thought again of how she had lifted the trash cans by her own free will and smiled. She looked down and saw a car parked in front of her building. *Well, I wonder if I’ll be able to lift that?* She looked around, making sure no one was around and then closed her eyes as she had done before and started to concentrate again. She felt the energy in her start to gather at one place. Then felt the air around her heat up as the energy around her concentrated.
She opened her eyes and counted her breathing, and held her hand outward, towards the car, she tried to concentrate harder. Mentally, she gave the car a slight push upwards, and felt herself strain under the pressure, but kept concentrating. The car could be heard groaning slightly but it did not move. She tried again, this time closing her eyes, and picturing the car in her mind. She felt it lift slightly.
She was perspiring harder now and her strength seemed to be fading fast, but she did not falter. *Come one, come on,* she thought, gritting her teeth in the process. The car was now lifting four feet into the air, slowly and steadily. She opened her eyes and everything seemed blurred. *I’ll quit once I see it’s high enough.* She looked down, still straining under the pressure. The car had dropped down slightly, about a foot. “No!” Tarix uttered, but it seemed to take up too much strength to even say that.
This time she raised her second hand in the air and tried to lift the car higher, but with no success. “ARGH” she cried out. Suddenly, a small buzzing sound was heard from far away, but it grew louder and louder in her ears, until it seemed the sound had reached her eyes and her vision seemed to become brighter and brighter. Still she didn’t quit. *Come on, just a few more feet…*
Her vision was growing more and more white and the loud buzz was growing deafening. Tarix found that she couldn’t move anymore and all of a sudden her vision blacked out. Just then the car dropped down with a big thump.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
It was Thule who saved Tarix’s life that night.
Thule parked his car near the building. He got out and took the small gift basket with him. This was his first visit since Tarix had moved into her apartment, and he had brought her a house-warming gift. He looked around and saw two guys walking towards him. Instantly he reached in his pocket and grabbed his stake and waved it in front of him.
“Hey, hey, pops, come on now. We don’t wanna hurt you,” said the boy on the right, who had a bandanna on his head and was wearing denim jeans and a polo shirt.
“Yeah, you wouldn’t wanna see a couple young teens go hungry now wouldja?” said the other one, similarly dressed but excluding the bandanna and wearing a leather jacket.
The other one came close to Thule and started sniffing. Then his nose wrinkled up. “Aww, he’s a demon. Never mind old man, you got lucky.” The vampire started walking away from him, “Come on Dex, let’s get us a girl.”
His friend followed behind him, “Can we get a blonde this time Earl?”
Thule looked down and sighed, turned around and chased after them.
When he was done, there was nothing left of them two but two piles of dust being whisked away by the wind.
Thule continued to his walk and then saw the most curious thing. A grey Honda right in front of him was floating a few feet in the air. *Oh my…* He looked around trying to find the cause of it. He looked underneath the car, but found nothing. Then suddenly he heard a sound. ARGH.
He looked up and saw Tarix standing there on the terrace, her eyes closed and her hands out in front of her. “Oh dear Lord!” Thule said before rushing up the stairs. When he reached her apartment he tried the door. It was open. *Thank Lord for her absent mind.* He quickly made his way to the terrace and was just in time to see Tarix on the floor, fainted, shivering ever so violently.
He lifted her up and carried her to her bed. “Stupid girl, at least you should have told me…” he said to her.
He raced down to his car and brought out a wooden black box. *Thank God, I carry the emergency supplies.* He brought it back to Tarix’s place and set the box down.
He then took out the root of Sage, herb of Kashkash, Sauf and two cloves. He then took out a small marble bowl and put all the items in it and with an accompanying marble stick he ground up the herbs. He then took a squashed leaf of Sheesham and put the herbs in it and rolled it up like a large cigarette.
Thule carried it to where Tarix was lying. Her breath was becoming more erratic, and her heartbeat was becoming weaker. He quickly lighted the herbs and blew at the flame until the herbs were smoking, giving out a bright green smoke. He then pinched her nose and made her inhale the smoke. He kept it there for five whole minutes. She then jerked up and started coughing. He helped her up.
Still coughing, but with her eyes now open she sat up. “God Thule, what the hell happened, ahhh I have such a bad headache.” She pressed her hands to her temple. “And what's that smell?”
Thule stared at her coldly. “What in the world did you think you were doing?”
“I don’t remember… no wait, it's coming back to me. I was out on the terrace and then I blacked out.”
“You may have left out the detail about you using your power, not only out in the open for others to see, but also to an extent that it could have killed you!”
Tarix guiltily looked down, and said nothing. Thule took the time to pack up his things and throw away the herbs.
“I was only trying to exercise my powers,” she finally said in a small voice. “I didn’t know they would knock me out totally.”
“Well, it's time I briefed you on it more thoroughly isn’t it. First of all, now that you have some knowledge of how to use one of your abilities, you shall never use them, ever, without my supervision.”
“But…”
“No but. After what happened today, you can’t risk that. Secondly, you are to drink my tea,” he said, walking out of her towards the kitchen.
“Ok, but I’ll help you.” She tried to get up, but plopped back down on her back, the effort only adding to her headache. “On second thought, I think you better do it alone.”
After some time Thule came into the room carrying to mugs of hot tea. He gave one to her and sipped from his own mug. Pulling the fold-up chair, he sat on it beside Tarix’s bedside.
Tarix sipped her tea, scrunched up her nose, and took another sip. After a while, she asked, “So tell me what happened? Why do I feel weak?”
Thule looked thoughtful. “The Order has put up a great deal of funds in the research of demon powers. I only have limited knowledge of it, however. Still I’ll try my best to explain. You see, there is a simple rule in physics. Energy cannot be created, it is merely taken or borrowed. When you used your power of telekinesis, you were using a concentrated source of energy, call it thick air, to move the object. Because you haven’t been effectively trained, the simplest way you used that power was to use your own energy.
“That is the reason why you felt weak, because you were using your own energy to lift a very heavy object. Also because you didn’t stop in time, your energy kept draining. Think of it this way, when a battery of an electronic item like a… umm… mobile gets all used up what happens?”
“The mobile dies and needs to drink tea?” Tarix replied.
“Sort of, well not tea, but it switches off. That’s what happened to you. You switched off. And because you were taking away energy from yourself, and switched off in the process, your body didn’t know when to quit giving off the energy. This way you were continuously losing energy.”
“Does this mean that if you hadn’t woken me up I would have died?”
“Yes. First you would have gone into a deep coma and then died. Those herbs, the sticky smell I made you sniff, those made your body’s power source contract and stopped you from giving off more and more of your energy. It also gave you more energy so that you could be awakened.”
“Wow. Then how do I use this power without going into a coma?” she asked.
“By practising. You will have to train so that instead of using your own energy, you can use energy from elsewhere. Like the atmosphere, the air, any power source around.”
“Does that mean I would be able to shoot sparks with my bare hands?”
“You are not a Kondra demon, just a Katazeen, and foolish.”
“Oh. Ok.” She looked down and began to finish her tea.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
”New Beginnings”
Introducing – Tommy Lee Jones as James Anderson
Monday, 5 September 2005
10am
Detective James Anderson sighed and rested his face in his hands before going to work on the file again. Some cases were solved so quickly, it was almost as if they wanted to be cracked. Others just seemed determined to give you as much trouble as they could before being solved. The current case he was working on fell closer to the latter than the former. A bad drug deal interrupted by one of the local gangs.
“Pardon me, Detective Anderson?” a man said. He looked up from the file to see a man in a black suit who had to be just a few years younger than he was standing there, with his hair parted to one side. There was a box in his hands, and it looked like he was carrying a police shield with him.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Anderson replied, shutting the file for the fourth time in the day. “Something I can do for you?”
“My name is Galen Eldridge,” the other man replied, shifting the box and extending his hand. “I just transferred in from the Bureau, and been assigned to work with you.”
The Captain had mentioned a new partner earlier in the day, but Anderson thought nothing of it through the day, instead being busy with work. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said, smiling and firmly shaking his hand before motioning to the nearby desk. Eldridge placed the box down over there and began pulling out various notebooks and files.
“Mind if I ask you something?” Anderson said, curiosity getting the better of him. Besides, he told himself, it was far easier to work with a man you knew than one you didn’t.
“Sure, go ahead,” Eldridge replied, and Anderson noticed him pull out a single personal item: it was a picture of him with a young, red-headed woman. They were both dressed nice, for going to a restaurant probably. He had his arm around the woman in the picture, holding her close.
A new bit of curiosity got the better of Anderson. “Your wife?” he asked, pointing to the photo. The other question could wait a bit, but maybe this could give him a way to figure out Eldridge. One of the things he believed was that you could tell a lot about a person by the way he treated those he cared the most about.
Eldridge casually tossed the box under the desk before sitting down and folding his hands in his lap. From the smile on his face, Anderson thought he was right. “My girlfriend, actually,” Eldridge said. “Kate.”
“Nice name,” Anderson said, nodding. “How did you two meet?”
“It’s a long story,” Eldridge said, chuckling a bit.
There was something there he didn’t want to talk about. Long story usually meant interesting, but not something you talked about in any detail without knowing somebody. *Probably met her in the Bureau.* He thought Eldridge was about to say something else, when he stopped and shifted topics.
“The Captain told me to check with you about the case you have right now. Shouldn’t we get started on that?”
“All right,” Anderson replied. It was nice to have a partner who was down-to-buisness, but that didn’t always mean you could work well with them. There would be plenty of time to see if they could stand each other later. For right now, though, he would give Eldridge a chance. Taking the file to his desk he put down several photos. “Looks like a drug deal gone bad. Shot by a couple bangers about 10am.”
Eldridge looked at the various photos, the way the bodies had fallen. “Witnesses?”
“Just one, already interviewed him. From his description, they were wearing Black Veins colours. Which is odd because-“
“The Veins only operate at night,” Eldridge finished for him. Anderson’s surprise was clear. He’d thought a local street gang in Los Angeles would have been below Eldridge’s radar. Still, he was rather impressed at the fact that he’d heard of them and spotted the oddity immediately. “Who else would want him out of business?”
“In that area? Only about a dozen other dealers.” Anderson checked the file again. “If it helps any, our dealer seems to have been one of the old Southside Crew, which broke up after the killing of one of the leaders.”
Eldridge leaned back in thought for a minute, considering what he was being told. Anderson could tell he was trying to think of a number of possible angles for this. It was clear who stood to gain, Galen thought, from the removal of a dealer: any other dealer who took his place. But who would benefit from framing the Black Veins for this? The answer was nobody, really.
“I think we should interview the witness again,” Galen said at last.
“Why’s that?” Anderson asked, wondering what thought was going into this. It had crossed his mind to do that before.
“He’s obviously lying to protect someone. Nobody benefits from trying to set up the Veins, and there’s no way they could pull this off.” Anderson was impressed at Eldridge’s thoughts. He’d considered that possibility, but couldn’t shake the feeling there was something they were missing.
******
Tom Wilson was well regarded by the local members of the community. A sophomore in college and honours student with a 4.0 GPA, Tom was not the type you would expect to lie or commit a crime. The first officers on scene for the shooting he witnessed were local; they made sure to tell Anderson their impressions of him. Presently he found himself back at the street corner where he said he saw the shooting from, with Anderson’s new partner questioning him. “Man, I already told y’all what I saw.”
“Just trying to make sense of your story,” Galen said, standing in the spot where Tom said he was. He motioned with his arm. “So, you say the shooter came from that direction, and they were wearing Crips colours?”
“Nah, dude, it was Black Veins colours,” he replied. “But yeah, that’s where they came.”
“What was the lighting like?”
“Say what?”
“The lighting? Were they in the shade?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Tom said after a moment’s thought.
Galen puzzled over this answer, leaving both James and Tom giving him funny looks. Why was he asking about lighting of all things? The next thing Galen did was odder. He went down the path the shooters would have taken, looking around in the alleyway for… something. “And they didn’t come out of the alleyway, but were nowhere to be found.”
Galen crossed the street again. “Thanks for your help, Tom. If we need to speak to you again, we’ll give you a call.”
******
The two detectives got back in the car to head back to the station, James in the driver’s seat. They started back in silence for a few minutes before James spoke up. “What was that about back there?”
“What was what about?” Galen asked innocently.
“The lighting.”
“Oh, nothing, just a thought. I think the Veins might have been responsible.”
“But they don’t operate during the day.” James glanced over at his new partner suspiciously, wondering what he knew that he didn’t. Was he trying to protect somebody now? “You think they used the sewers to get around.”
Galen thought back to the report on the victim. There were a few marks on his neck, and the black veins were a vampire gang. He realised this must be the usual investigative method: run into a brick wall in the investigation. It also told him that James either did not know or did not believe. “It makes sense, and explains why they weren’t seen leaving the scene. Also makes it harder for us to counter any alibis. In other words, we have zero leads and no way to identify them.”
“Great, just lovely,” James said. He wished he’d thought to check the sewer detail, since he wouldn’t have wasted so much time on an obvious dead-end case. There would not be other witnesses who saw someone who may have been the shooter, and Wilson alone probably wouldn’t be enough if they had alibis. That even supposed they could identify them. Still, he could tell that he would like Galen Eldridge and felt his respect for him go up a notch.
Ian the Nursemaid PART 1
Previously on La By Night:
* Victor had his head cut off by the Kali-Monster conjured up by the Portal in the basement. * Tash and Sorrow have teamed up with Valerian to rescue Jade.
* Tash called Ian to come play nursemaid to Victor.
Guest Starring: Paul Bettany as Ian Pollock
Sunday 11th September 2005 - 7:05am
Victor lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.
When the sound of the door closing had stopped echoing through the empty room, Victor took the pad and pen carefully off the bedside table. In his meticulous handwriting he began to write…
He tapped his pen on the paper. He poked his finger into the soft forming shell on the left side of his neck. He stood slowly from the bed, and walked the few steps to the bathroom. If Tash had been watching she’d have drop tackled him back into bed. He looked in the mirror.
The handsome black face looked back at him. He had bolts and braces screwed into the side of his neck. He looked frightening. It reminded him of one of the few films he had ever watched. Frankenstein. He gathered the cervical brace that Tash had brought to him early on and fastened it around his neck. It covered the braces nicely, and looked appropriately human.
*Now when Ian shows up I will look more or less normal.*
Several hours later Ian was doodling on his tablet computer; he had already entered the expenses for the flight to his ledger. By his reckoning he still owed Tash more money than he could ever steal… earn in one lifetime.
There were two “waitresses” on the flight, a young attractive fit one and a wormy looking older one. Deep in the part of his mind where he could no longer lie to himself he knew which one would be serving him through most of the flight. But before that happened.
A few minutes later he was trying to loosen the overly tight seatbelt and padding at his crotch with the complimentary blanket. He was damned if he was going to ask that bitch about peanuts to go with his drink. The matronly flight attendant was demonstrating how to blow into the life jacket tube. Ian was fantasising about something else as he watched it.
As the plane touched down in the Burbank airport, Ian was more than ready to get off the plane—yet another flight where his membership to the “Mile High Club” had been turned down. He rented a sensible looking car at the airport and drove to the nearest Track Auto and bought $135 in parts. A little tinkering and his sensible car sported about 100 more horsepower.
Inwardly he chuckled at the next person who rented this baby. They’d be in for a surprise. He drove through the slummy neighborhoods that were Alhambra. He idly thought about Tash and the places they had run in St. Louis. Alhambra was definitely looking up.
He and Tash had done some shady business back then. B&E, surveillance, and vigilante activity. The press had loved to detail their exploits as the “Black Ops Bandits”—a moniker they earned when a surveillance camera captured them in their all-black burglar gear. Those were the days.
But even then Ian could not figure her out. As far as he could tell she was only doing it for the quick cash. Tash had something she had to do and Ian wasn’t really a part of it. She just grabbed him as she needed him.
He had had a glimpse of her world a few months ago. Casing that house, and rigging that security system, the night he could not remember, and his memories of that seedy bar across from the new age shop. Just a little bit was enough for him. He couldn’t understand what she was into…and didn’t want to.
In a way he was glad he could help Victor. Tash always pushed him too hard. Victor seemed a nice regular fellow. Parking in the alley next to the Poplar Avenue building he walked into the atrium and looked around. The cute girl who had been in the office when he was here last was out. Her office door was locked tight.
Upstairs, he knocked on Tash’s door. There was a long wait (he knocked twice more until he heard Victor’s voice beyond). When the door opened, it was not Victor but a black man wearing a white Oxford shirt, stylish slacks and a neck brace.
“Ian! Glad you could make it! Come in, come in!” Victor said jovially.
Ian stood in the hallway and made weird noises. It was Victor’s voice (he thought it was Victor’s voice) but here was man who had a slighter build and was definitely not the imposing and definitely white Victor.
Ian rushed inside and grabbed the man who winced in obvious pain. He pushed him into one of the couches and placed a knee on his gut. Ian produced a stun gun from a hidden pocket and zapped him a few times.
Victor felt like a rag-doll under the assault. He could not adequately control his reflexes yet and Ian easily overpowered him. The stun-gun had little effect other than to make his voice rise with each zap. “Ian! Wait! Stop! I can explain!” Victor tried to get Ian’s attention since he could not fight back.
Ian was busy fighting the imposter and interrogating him, “What did you do with Victor? If you have hurt Tash I’ll kill you! How did you force her to call me?”
Victor managed to get an arm under Ian and give him a graceless shove that propelled him back across the apartment until he cracked his head on the Stone of Ghortab by the door. When he came to, Victor (it wasn’t Victor but Ian was thinking of him as Victor) was laying on the bed next to him and was reading an old book. The Victor-imposter placed a hand over Ian’s eyes and spoke to him in small words like you would a small child.
“Ian, I am going to ask you a question before you attack me again. Be honest because I don’t want to have to hurt you all over again.” Victor’s voice (yes it was Victor, he was sure of it now. Wasn’t he?) spoke, “Do you believe in magic?”
Ian had seen some strange shit in his time with Tash: attackers who died and left no bodies; big gruesome mutant freaks with blue skin and horns. He had written it all off as hallucinations and stress. Some of it maybe was all the drugs he did in High School. Magic, huh? It would explain a lot. In fact Matthias topped the list of explanations.
Ian stayed calm as the part of his mind that held all the lies he told himself released one, “Yes, I think I can accept that it's possible.”
Victor withdrew the hand from Ian’s face, and smiled. “Then you will have to accept that it’s possible that I have a spell on me to make me look like this.”
Ian lay there and held out a hand to Victor. “Victor, good to... um… see you again. I heard you had an accident. Burned, I am guessing?”
Victor started to say no, then caught the joke.
*****
Ian was boiling water for a cup of coffee. It was for him since Victor it seemed didn’t want anything to eat or drink. He and Victor had agreed to keep the whole “beating up my boyfriend who was out of bed when he wasn’t supposed to be” incident from Tash. Ian just chalked it up to one of the many things he would never tell Tash.
He walked back into the bedroom and Victor was back to reading that musty-smelling old book. “Victor, tell me, what happened?”
Victor grinned, “A ten armed demon cut off my head.”
Ian stared at him blankly, “Is that supposed to be funny?”
Victor couldn’t shrug so he waved his palms, “No, I guess not. Actually I fell down the basement stairs and fractured my neck. It was pretty bad. I will be laid up for week… er… months at least.”
Ian nodded while rubbing the knot on the top of his head. “Good thing I wasn’t at the top of the stairs, or Tash would have had to care for us both. Look, its pretty dark here in the bedroom, why don’t you come out to the lounge and we can watch some TV. Maybe there’s a basketball game on.”
Victor looked helpless for a second. “I don’t watch TV, Ian, or movies either. The flicker drives me nuts.”
Ian looked puzzled for a second, “You can see the flicker? Even on the TV? Why not get a digital one? No flicker. Well I suppose a brainy guy like you would rather read a musty old book than watch the Billikens play basketball. Got any porn in that stack of reading material?”
“Actually, Ian, I have some jobs for you. Look on that pad. Ian glanced down the list of arrows and scribbled-out lines and saw:
“Can you handle that?” asked Victor.
Ian tossed the pad on the bed. “Me? I am all over it. Be done in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Interview a few colleens and sell some stuff on eBay, I am all over it. Where should I start?”
*****
Monday September 12th 2005 – 10AM
Ian surveyed the crates that had been moved up to the extra bedroom. The urns, sculptures, jewels, crates, books and religious artifacts looked like a bargain basement museum. Ian picked up a cross that was a lot heavier than it looked. “Gold?”
“Yes, but be careful, those sapphires aren’t well mounted.”
Ian was beginning to drool. Only one thing made him hornier than pretty… well… any woman, and that was conspicuous wealth. This was what he had started his “security” business for in the first place. Money. Lots of it. And he was going to sell it all. Let it slip past his fingers in exchange for cash by the mountain full. Victor was explaining the values of the items, but after the first 100 million Ian stopped tallying in his head.
“Victor, what would stop someone… anyone… from coming in here and picking that lock and carting off several million of this stuff?”
*Victor is an innocent. If it weren’t for Tash, he’d probably give away all this stuff. If I rip him off she’d kill me. Better play this one straight.* Ian mentally paid off more of his kharmic debt to Tash for being forced to play against his instincts.
Victor stumbled into a table and a jade chess piece rolled to the edge of the table. Ian caught it easily. Victor said, “I’d better get out of here before something gets broken.”
Ian mentally noted that he would definitely rig this room with some of his “special” security.
Victor leaned on Ian heavily as they descended the stairs. Ian asked about Henna. “She died, Ian. Sorry I didn’t tell you,” was Victor’s sad reply.
Ian actually felt a little sinking feeling when he said that. She was cute, sure, but she was also willing. If it had not been for that creepazoid at the airport… Ian actually felt like he’d miss her.
[/]Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Note: Writing in blue represents dream sequence/ flashback.
France 1856
Darian ran, pushing himself to go faster still. This time he would not allow the man to get away. Despite his unnatural speed, however, the druid was not easy prey for he too possessed certain unworldly abilities. When Darian would get close, roots would reach out to snag him, unnatural mist would rise from the ground, obscuring his vision, or the trees themselves would awaken from their eternal slumber and beat him with their thick branches. Unfortunately for the druid, Darian was now accustomed to his arcane trickery. For nearly six months he'd tracked him, from village to village, forest to forest, waiting for the inevitable day when he would finally catch up. Today was that day. After nearly two hours of intense pursuit the druid made the mistake Darian had been waiting for. While concentrating on yet another magical hindrance the druid did not notice the subtle drop elevation, and as a result he tumbled headfirst into an upcoming tree. This brief pause was all the faery needed to finally catch up.
“It’s over Sycrus, no more running.”
Darian had caught the druid once before in Ireland, but he was able to escape by morphing into a raven and flying away. This time, Darian was prepared for anything.
“I'll make this quick; you co-operate, I'll let you live. You don’t... well,” the flash of Darian’s knife was self-explanatory. “I know you’re a member of The Order of the Fae, and I know it is within your powers to restore my friend back to normal!”
A sadistic smile covered Sycrus’ face as he slowly rose to his feet. Something was not right.
“Stupid little faery, what nerve you have threatening me. Do you not believe it is within my power to deal with you as I see fit? You see, my dear Darian, the only reason I did not kill you on our previous encounter is because my Order does not wish your death. But now - now you prove to be too much of an annoyance to me.”
A feeling of rage and fear crept into Darian’s heart as two figures emerged from the surrounding foliage. *I’ve become reckless, I should have noticed we were not alone,* he thought to himself.
The situation was indeed graver than the young fae had initially thought. Once the two men stepped into the clearing, he noticed they were not men at all, they were vampires.
“How eager the two were when I approached them with the opportunity to feast on one of your kind. I hear it’s quite a delicacy for them,” the druid sneered. “I will definitely enjoy watching them rip you piece by piece.”
Before Darian could react, the smaller of the two vampires leapt into action, kicking him square in the stomach. Incredible pain shot through Darian’s body as the force of the blow forced him to keel over. Realizing that if he did not react quickly the vampires would make short work of him, Darian used his powerful legs to catapult himself backwards, avoiding the second vampire’s attack. Regaining his composure, the young faery used his incredible speed and agility to dodge his assailants’ relentless attacks.
“Must I do everything myself?” Sycrus fumed, as his fingers began jerk hypnotically and unnaturally.
A ball of green flame burst forth from the tips of the druid’s fingers, missing Darian by mere inches.
Suddenly, Darian was overcome by a stroke of genius. He quickly angled himself between Sycrus and the two bloodthirsty vampires. Just as the druid let loose another surge of green flame, Darian jumped straight up, grabbing the nearest branch. The vampires were instantly engulfed in the flame, and in seconds combusted into dust.
Before Sycrus could react to scene which had unfolded, Darian leapt from the branch and landed in front of the startled druid. In the blink of an eye, Darian’s fingers were wrapped around the neck of the elderly man.
“Wait... wait,” the druid whimpered pathetically, “You must believe me when I tell you that the only reason I did what I did is because I do not have the power to restore your friend, and so I thought you would kill me.”
“Believe you! You send filthy vampires to kill me, and you ask me to believe you?”
Darian’s eyes shifted from their usual indigo hue to a midnight black. His muscles tensed and the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end. Before Sycrus realized what was happening, he found Darian’s blade protruding from his stomach. Darian stumbled back, as if waking from a trance, his eyes returning to their original colour. He did not consciously remember stabbing the druid.
Sycrus fell backwards, but instead of crying out in pain, as one would expect, the elderly man began to laugh.
“You see, dear boy, you have thus demonstrated why my Order allows you to live. Sooner or later, the dark faery inside you will take over, and then you shall become our agent once more, an agent of darkness”.
Darian’s eyes flashed open, revealing the interior of a Greyhound bus. His hand swept across his forehead, brushing away the sweat. No matter how many times he dreamed of that night in 1856, it still left him unnerved.
*Was Sycrus right? What if one day I can’t control the faery inside me?* This thought was often the source of distress for Darian, as he did not want to become what he so hated, an agent of the darkness.
Darian took several deep breaths and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. Right now he was concerned with one thing, and that was restoring Sebastian back to human form. That is why he was on this dreary red-eye Greyhound bus, to find someone who could do just that.
The bus turned slightly, taking the exit off the AutoRoute. The landscape outside had gradually shifted from forests to a more urban environment. As Darian gazed out the window of the bus, he could barely make out the sign in the distance:
Welcome to L.A.
Part Two - Scene One
"Alliances - Part Two"
Introducing – Haley Joel Osment as Harrison Lindley Junior
Downtown Los Angeles
Thursday, 8th September 2005
7:30pm
Harrison Lindley Junior was bored. The five-year-old boy waited impatiently in the back seat of Senator Lindley Senior’s black limo even though his father had already been gone almost twenty minutes now. The driver, Alfredo Perez, readjusted the interior mirror and glanced at the young boy on the back seat as he bounced a soccer ball on his muddy knees. Senator Lindley had been gone a long time now, but it wasn’t unusual for him to partake of a few ‘intimate’ transactions in this part of town, especially when his wife was away. Alfredo shook his head in dismay; it wasn’t his place to comment on the Senator’s sex life, he just thought it was a shame that the kid had to be there. This part of town was no place for a kid.
Taking one last glance at Harrison he raised the partition between himself and the back seat, replaced a set of headphones in his ears and turned up the volume of his pocket radio. The Los Angeles Dodgers were playing that night and he had fifty bucks riding on Jose Diaz scoring a home run.
Harrison watched as Alfredo slid down into his seat and propped his cap over his face. He was fed up and he wanted his father to come back so that they could go home. Harrison hated these trips to the middle of nowhere that they always seemed to take when his mommy was away.
Bored, he opened the car door and stepped out into the dark street. He kicked his soccer ball around for a bit before it hit the curb and rolled into a dimly lit side alley. Harrison looked around warily before tentatively venturing into the relative darkness in search of his ball. The back door to a cheap Italian restaurant faced into the alley, along with a dumpster that was overflowing with stinking refuse. Harrison held his nose against the smell as he peered around looking for his ball. He poked at a bag of garbage and it promptly burst open all over his shoes. Harrison knelt down, picking up a more or less clean piece of paper and began scraping the garbage from his pumps as best he could.
Harrison jumped to his feet in shock as he suddenly heard a noise that seemed to come from behind the dumpster. He dropped the paper with which he had been cleaning his shoes and stood still, listening for the noise to sound again. When several painfully silent minutes had passed Harrison slowly took several tentative steps towards the dumpster. The weak light from above the restaurant service entrance barely penetrated the solid darkness of the night but it was enough for Harrison to see something crouched low behind the receptacle.
Harrison frowned as he squinted through the poor light to see just what was there. He took another step forwards, his pumps sliding through a thick pool of liquid as he approached the end of the dumpster. As Harrison looked down to see what he was stood in he gave a short yelp as something grabbed at his ankles. Harrison jumped back a couple of steps pressing his back against the opposite wall of the alley, his heart beating furiously. The creature lurking in the darkness behind the dumpster emitted a low growling noise, snarling slightly before growing silent. Harrison looked down at the floor and saw a long red smear across the alley from the dumpster to his own feet. He looked back towards the creature, straining to make sense of its strange hunched up form in the darkness.
The monster was crouched low on all fours like a dog only he appeared to have the hind legs of a goat or some such cloven footed animal. His hands had long fingers and razor sharp talons like a bird of prey. Its head was covered in red scales and while mostly human in shape had a third eye in the very centre of its forehead. The creature snarled again as it sensed Harrison’s piercing gaze inspecting every part of its hideous form. Interrupted from its latest victim the creature looked up at the little boy, fresh blood and sinew dripping down the scales of his chin and sloshing on to the concrete pavement.
Harrison’s eyes wandered from the hideous creature to the unmoving body of a man on the ground crushed gracelessly into the corner of the alley. The creature clawed at the corpse, withdrawing a handful of internal organs which he carelessly dropped to the ground. His long fingernails flicked through the remains of the dead man’s liver and intestines. With a wicked gleam in his eye he picked up the heart and tore a bite out of it as though it were an apple. Tossing the lump of chewed arteries and muscle tissue to one side the creature glared at Harrison with malicious intent. The little boy squealed again, as he finally found his feet and fled back down the alleyway towards the waiting limo.
Part Two - Scene Two
"Alliances - Part Two"
Starring Victor Garber as Jack Archer
Downtown Los Angeles
Thursday, 8th September 2005
8:00pm
Jack Archer was patrolling the area when he heard the young boy’s sudden cries. He hastened in the direction of the sound while stealthily removing his firearm from inside his jacket pocket. He had been tracking Belzar ever since he arrived in Los Angeles two days ago; something told him he could be on the right trail. He quickly crossed the road, and entered the small side alley.
Jack hugged the far wall as he cautiously surveyed the area. He walked over to the dumpster where the mangled body of a middle-aged man lay slumped in the corner, his heart cut out and half eaten on the floor. Jack crouched down and dipped his fingers in the pool of blood – still warm.
Suddenly Jack was thrown against the corpse as Belzar leapt out of the shadows and pounced on him. Jack recoiled as his own eyes stared into the dead eyes of Senator Lindley. Belzar grabbed a hold of Jack by his jacket and flung him across the alley into the far wall. Jack let out a small grunt as he struck the hard surface.
Belzar’s voice was deep and thunderous as he spoke, “Archer? I might have known the Alliance would send you… you take a great risk coming here. The Order…”
“Won’t protect you Belzar, not now, not after you violated the treaty.”
“The Treaty!” mocked Belzar as he slowly moved closer to Jack. “Humans and demons will never be harmonious, you and your people are wasting your time. Alaric is an even bigger fool for even considering the possibility. In the glorious days of destruction, death was our mission, not peace!”
“Things change,” said Jack, stalling for time while his hand carefully took hold around his gun. “You, my friend, are a relic, stuck in your ways, the Alliance… is the future.”
Belzar grinned, showing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. “But not yours, considering you’ll be dead.” Belzar reached out a long arm and dragged Jack from the floor, propping him against the wall. He trailed a fingernail across his stern, unyielding face before leaning in closer. Suddenly his body went rigid; he dropped Jack to the ground and staggered backwards.
Jack clambered to his feet and raised his hand which was wrapped tightly around his gun. Steadying his arm he aimed at Belzar as he fell and fired several times, his face becoming expressionless. Keeping his eyes on the creature Jack slowly circled Belzar before gritting his teeth and turning the demon over onto his back. He lined his gun up to the third eye in the middle of Belzar’s head and turned away as he fired his final bullet home.
The demon screeched a primordial death cry before finally dying. Jack turned back to Belzar’s body and hoisted it into the nearby dumpster before setting it alight. He watched silently as the fire consumed every evidence of Belzar’s existance.
Jack suddenly turned around as he heard someone step into the alley.
“Nice job Jack, couldn’t have done better myself.”
Part Two - Scene Three
"Alliances - Part Two"
Starring Patrick Stewart as Alaric
Downtown Los Angeles
Thursday, 8th September 2005
8:20pm
Jack was unmoved even as the formidable form of Alaric was revealed by the weak light of the alley.
“Very good job if I might say so,” continued Alaric, “even if it was quite brief. I usually like to see a little more bloodshed, but that’s probably just a force of habit. You do remember me, don’t you Jack?”
“Of course, Alaric. You are not someone easily forgotten,” said Jack as he reloaded his gun and then secured it back in its holster.
Alaric glanced towards the burning dumpster, “My apologies for Belzar, he abandoned the Order a few months ago when we had a slight… disagreement. It was my intention to inform the Alliance but it slipped my mind… these things happen.”
“These things happen,” echoed Jack. “If you don’t mind Alaric, I have some other business to attend to…” Jack let his sentence hang in the air as he made his way out of the alley and back on to the street. After a moment Alaric caught up with him.
“Leaving Los Angeles so soon? Well I suppose, considering what happened here - too many bad memories I suppose?”
Jack continued to walk, focusing on the horizon. “Yes, too many bad memories.”
“Too bad, too bad,” said Alaric trying to keep up with Jack’s quick pace. “This town could always use another hero.”
“I’m no hero,” stated Jack in his usual emotionless tone. “I have a job to do and I do it.”
“You did me a favour tonight Jack,” said Alaric in a low voice, “getting rid of Belzar, he’s been a thorn…”
Suddenly Jack stopped, his face turning slightly annoyed. “If you have something to say Alaric just say it and save me the opening night performance.”
“I have something, some information that might be of interest to you.”
“Such as?” asked Jack with a slight flicker of intrigue.
“Something you’ve been looking for, something very rare, very powerful. I happened to stumble over it, quite by accident some time ago.”
Jack tried to search Alaric’s face for some hint as to what he was talking about. “And you would just give this ‘rare and powerful’ object to me? Why?”
“Call it returning a favour.” Alaric reached into his coat and pulled out a manila-coloured envelope, he hesitated about handing it over for a moment. “Call it what you will… do you accept?” Jack nodded and Alaric dropped the envelope into his hands before turning to leave.
“Oh and Jack?” said Alaric turning back one last time. “This makes us even now. When our paths cross again it may not be on such amicable terms.”
Jack’s Apartment
Thursday, 8th September 2005
11:30pm
Jack sighed as he sank into a soft leather armchair. The envelope that Alaric had given him lay on the coffee table in front of him. He poured out another glass of scotch and took a drink before picking it up and tearing it open. Several sheets of paper and a photograph slid on to the glass tabletop.
Jack picked up the papers and flicked through them. Slowly a frown began to form on his forehead. He dropped the papers, picked up his glass and drained it empty. He shook his head in disbelief and sank back into his chair, burying his face in his hands.
After a long moment Jack opened his eyes and noticed the photograph among the papers on the table. Hesitating for a moment he picked up the picture and looked at it intently. Jack suddenly dropped the picture to the floor, unable to look at it any longer. He grabbed the scotch bottle and poured another drink.
So close, but so far
Wednesday September 14th, 2005
5:24 PM, Room 114 of Econolodge Motel
The smell of dirt and mildew hung offensively in the air, stains of all different colours could be found on the sickly green carpet underfoot, and the temperature was uncomfortably hot, due to the broken airconditioner that lay lifeless in the corner. None of these trivial annoyances seemed to bother Darian however, since he did not intend to stay long. In fact, if things went as planned, he would be out of the hell-forsaken city by nightfall.
Upon arriving in LA early Monday morning, Darian was extremely happy to discover something incredibly unique about this particular city: Magic vibrations were everywhere. Anyone with an ounce of mystical blood in their veins could feel it in the air. No doubt the area had been witness to several colossal supernatural events, each leaving behind traces of mystic energy, energy Darian intended to put to good use.
Originally, the young Fae had come to LA in hopes of discovering truth to the rumor that the city was filled with powerful witches and warlocks, but now there stood a chance that they would not be needed. With so much excess energy lingering about, there stood a chance that he could personally perform the reversal spell, thus returning his trapped friend back to normal. This was indeed a pleasant possibility, since he was not keen on the idea of enlisting the help of a potentially dangerous sorcerer.
After moving the single bed to the corner of the room, Darian began placing an assortment of green, black and gold candles in a triangular pattern and took his place in the middle. It was not the first time he had attempted this spell. Roughly thirty years earlier, Darian had encountered a Native-American shaman in the Appalachian mountains who had given him an incantation which he believed would reverse the druid’s curse. The one problem with the spell was that it required a tremendous amount of magical energy to perform (that is, if it even worked). Initially, although Darian had no knowledge of spell-craft, he believed that his faery blood would give him enough energy to work the charm. That was not the case. A hundred times the mystic verses were recited, and a hundred times they failed. Tonight would be different. LA’s supernatural aura would be enough to make it work, it had to.
Standing in the triangle’s center, Darian reached into his pocket and retrieved a small vial containing a strong smelling red liquid. Then removing his tight black T-shirt, he used the strange substance to inscribe the proper sigils on his chest. Finally, the last the preparations were finished. With one last deep breath, Darian began the incantation:
By hill and wind,
By flame and brook,
By shining moon and sea;
Undo the bind
Upon this stone
Return what once was to me.
A strange blue light began emanating from the stone. *Could it actually be working?* Darian thought to himself. He continued the second half of the chant with even greater enthusiasm:
Blazing force of cleansing fire,
Dancing flames of light;
Hearken, for my need is dire;
Help me in this rite.
Stone of flame, and fiery flower,
Glowing in my sight;
Return what once was in this hour
I free it with your might!
The light began to grow stronger… stronger… then nothing. Once more had the spell failed.
“DAMNIT, not again.”
Darian fell to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.
“This was supposed to work, Seb. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
No longer could he restrain the tears he was holding back.
***
3 Hours Later
Darian swung on his jean bomber jacket as he left the dingy motel. The cool evening air was a refreshing change from the stuffy room. *Since it looks like I may be here awhile, I better find a more permanent place to live,* he thought to himself as he walked off into the night.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Sunday, 11th September 2005 - 7:30am
Guest Starring Johnny Depp as Valerian.
The only sound was the soft purr of the limo's engine as it glided effortlessly through the Los Angeles streets. That, and the breathing of two nervous humans. The vampire made no noise at all. Tash shifted uncomfortably on the plush cushioning, wondering for the hundredth time if she was going to survive the next few days.
Her glance darted everywhere - the carpeted floor, the rich upholstery, Sorrow's clasped hands, Valerian's Italian leather shoes, the blacked-out windows. Everywhere but at Valerian's face. She knew she was exuding pheromones that any vampire would consider a dinner bell. She could almost taste her own fear. *Breathe. Remember Matthias' exercises. Centre. Calm.* Her breathing slowed slightly, and she glanced once more at Sorrow, hoping he had a plan to get them out of this alive at the end.
Like Tash, Sorrow was glancing around the limousine though his eyes held appreciation rather than fear. *Ok, so being an elder vampire has one good point.* His eyes took in the half concealed smile on Valerian’s face. It was a smile that grew more predatory every time Tash refused to meet Valerian’s eyes. *Shame about all the bad points.*
He reached out and touched Tash's forearm; having attracted her attention he spoke no words, merely looked at her. When her gaze was no longer darting around the interior he gave a slight smile and settled back into the seat. It had been a long night. The backlash from two spells, the additional energy he'd expended trying to fight the block along with the fear and anxiety all conspired against him. He closed his eyes and despite Valerian's fearful presence he dozed.
Tash relaxed a little more at Sorrow’s silent reassurance, though she could hardly credit it when she heard the soft susurration of his snores. Despite the long night hunting she’d had, only to be woken by Sorrow after a mere couple of hours’ sleep, she knew it would be impossible for her to sleep in Valerian’s presence.
Fighting down her anxiety, she slowly and deliberately straightened her spine and lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to stay fixed on a point off to the side. Her head was turned at an angle away from the vampire whose casual posture belied his feline readiness to pounce. She could see the shape of him from the corner of her eye, his dense, dark aura filling the space around him. *Breathe in… Breathe out…*
"Rest, Natasha. He'll need you when he wakes." Valerian's amusement seemed to poison the air but Tash felt that awful scrutiny move away from her. Valerian gazed blankly into space, the sense of his presence fading as his attention moved elsewhere.
With Valerian no longer inspecting her like she was a bug under a magnifying glass, Tash felt a profound sense of relief. She leant her head back against the seat and let her eyes droop. But they didn't shut. Through the curtain of her lashes she kept Valerian in her periphery as the limousine hummed smoothly on its way. The sensation of movement was almost nonexistent - Tash could almost believe they were floating in a sea of darkness, though she knew that beyond the shaded windows was a bright LA morning.
"Where the hell are we going, anyway?" Tash didn't realise she'd spoken aloud until Valerian turned his head to regard her once more.
"To my humble home in Los Angeles. I doubt Tristan will be forgiving of delay so I will gather the necessary materials then find my daughter." Valerian paused a moment, "There is a vampire at my home who will be accompanying us. I would be most unhappy if any harm came to Samantha." Tash felt the weight of his gaze on her again. "Do you understand?"
Great. Another one. Just what she needed. She let her eyes flick up to meet Valerian's for the briefest of moments before her gaze settled somewhere around his collarbone.
"Sure, why not?" she answered bitterly. "Bring along a whole retinue - it's not like we can stop you."
"Natasha..." the slight emphasis on her name and Valerian’s whispered tone sent an involuntary shiver down Tash's spine, "That was unworthy of you. Samantha is young and a touch foolish but I would prefer her to remain whole and 'undusted'."
"Look, you're our best bet of finding Jade. No matter how much we might hate it, we need you. So no, I won't go dusting your girlfriend."
"Such insolence." His tone was mocking, "Samantha is my childe, and though you humans so often misinterpret such bonds she isn't my girlfriend. I care for her as any master should care for those of his blood."
His voice returned to that intimate whisper, “As I would care for any who were of my blood..."
Tash shivered and turned away from him, not caring how rude she seemed. She couldn't look at him any more. Her thoughts flew to Jade. Were they doing the right thing by bringing this monster - her father - to her? Could they find her without him? She stared at Sorrow's somnolent form and sighed. He was right. Maybe they could find someone strong enough to break the magic block, but in that time Jade could well be dead.
“If you really cared for Jade, you'd leave her alone. She's asked for nothing from you but peace, and all you've given her is nightmare." Tash turned back to the creature that sat in the skin of a young man who'd lived once, centuries ago. "You don't care for her - you just want to conquer her."
"Ah... conquest. Yes, there is a great deal of pleasure to be taken in conquest. In Jadyn's case, however, I merely wish to give her what is rightfully hers. There is a great deal of untapped power in Jadyn; had she had access to it now I doubt these fools who have taken her would have succeeded. Still, sometimes a parent must allow their child to make her own mistakes. I have time." Valerian looked at Sorrow's sleeping form, "All the time in the world."
"And did you ever once stop to ask her if she wanted the power you offer her? She knows that it would strip her of her humanity." Tash's gaze followed Valerian's to regard Sorrow as well. "And she wants to keep it."
"Humanity? Tristan flayed a man alive, did so at my daughter’s request. How much humanity do you think that took? Did they wail and cry? Does the guilt eat at them? How long do you think it will be before it becomes easy for them? Humanity? They've already started down the road past it."
Tash turned hollow eyes to Valerian, finally meeting his piercing gaze. "No," she whispered, "You're wrong. He," she broke off and took in Sorrow's sleeping form again before turning back to Valerian, "He felt it, believe me. And Jade didn't know... No, they aren't down that path. You want to take Jade and turn her into something twisted, like yourself. Beyond redemption."
Tash forced her head away from the vampire, searching Sorrow's features. Despite her protests, Valerian's words echoed some of her own worries. She could never have done what Sorrow did to Xavier. She suppressed a shudder and closed her eyes, hoping they'd reach Valerian's 'humble' home soon.
"How long do you think he has? A year? Five? Ten? When one of my kind finally tears out his throat with their teeth what do you think she'll do then? Will her humanity ease the pain?" The limousine turned right and glided down a ramp into an underground garage. As the limo parked Valerian looked again at Tash, "Of course it doesn't need to be like that for either of them..." The door to the limo opened, "Wake him," and Valerian got out.
Irked that he'd got the last word, and feeling petty at being irked over something so minor, Tash laid a hand on Sorrow's shoulder and gently shook him. "We're here," she said as he started awake, his hand automatically reaching for his sword. In a fraction of a second the light of recognition dawned in his eyes and he relaxed. Tash warned, "Valerian says there's another vampire here. Someone called Samantha. His, apparently."
"Oh? I take it she's off limits? Or does he think we need practise? Well, let’s head into the demon’s lair." They got out and walked to where Valerian stood before the doors of an elevator. The ride upwards was fast and smooth and the doors opened on a luxuriously appointed corridor. Before them stood a young oriental woman.
"Samantha, we have guests." Valerian gestured towards Sorrow, "This is Tristan and his... companion, Natasha. Tristan, my childe Samantha."
"A pleasure."
"Likewise." Samantha looked to her sire, "I'll go prepare a guest room.”
"Guest room?" Tash was startled. "Oh, no. We're not staying." She faced Valerian, "You were just going to get some things, you said." She found herself subconsciously gauging the distance between her and the exit.
"Natasha, calm yourself. It is after dawn and I am a creature of the night. Tristan and yourself are too, though I'll admit for very different reasons. I need to sleep, Tristan's spellcasting has left him exhausted and I would imagine you've had little sleep, especially if you've been hunting. That doesn't even cover your ordeal in the graveyard. And while I understand your reluctance to sleep here, no harm will come to you while you remain under my roof. On that you have my word."
Tash could see Sorrow's fatigue, and she could certainly feel her own. And his word? She felt it wasn't worth the paper it was written on... Dammit, she hated it when her mortal enemies were right. "Very well," she sighed and gestured vaguely down the hallway, "Show us to our rooms."
Samantha glanced to Tash, "Rooms? You'll be sleeping separately?"
"Yes, we'll be sleeping separately," Sorrow raised an eyebrow at Valerian. "It's a little late for games isn't it?" He looked sternly at Sam, "Two rooms, fledgling. And don't presume to know your elder’s mind next time."
Samantha sniffed and turned haughtily away.
"Would you care for a drink before you retire?" Valerian inquired archly as he moved further down the corridor.
Tash's nerves grated. She hated to take this creature's hospitality. "A jug of water for the nightstand would be good," she asked as civilly as possible, "But other than that, no thanks."
She settled her bag more firmly on her shoulder and strode down the corridor after Valerian. "If we're staying for the day, I'd just like to get to my room and get the rest you've so graciously promised."
"But of course." Valerian led them through a large lounge to another corridor.
Samantha stepped out of a doorway on the right. "Your rooms are ready." She motioned behind her and to a door further down. "There's a connecting door. It isn't locked."
Valerian smiled as he spoke, "Well, I shall bid you goodnight - or rather, good day." Valerian turned and with the younger vampire a step behind him left Sorrow and Tash standing by the doorway.
"I hate that creature."
"You aren't the only one," Tash responded. She peered through the doorway into the room. "Do you want this one or the other one? I suspect they'll be much the same." Not waiting for Sorrow's answer, she stepped inside and peered around. "Damn, it's times like this I wish I had Ian's skills. Or Galen's."
She twisted her head over her shoulder to peer back at Sorrow still standing just inside the doorway. "What do you reckon? Will he have bothered to bug it? Or am I just being over-paranoid?"
"No, he's probably listening in, though I'd imagine he's using magic rather electronics. If he is I doubt, even at my best, that I could set a ward strong enough to keep him out." Sorrow turned and opened the door behind him to reveal a second opulently furnished bedroom. "So, safety in numbers or modesty?"
Tash surveyed the two bedrooms, both luxuriously appointed. She imagined herself sinking into one of those beds. Alone. In the house of a vampire. A vampire who had already tried to turn her once.
But Valerian didn't dare hurt either her or Sorrow before they found Jade. He needed them as much as they needed him. And in his own twisted way, Valerian had his own sense of honour - and he had given his word. Mind you, what would constitute 'harm' in the elder's eyes?
"Oh, dammit," Tash finally spoke, "Would you mind...? I don't think I could sleep in one of these rooms alone. God knows what that creature would get up to while he had us separated." She almost felt ashamed to be admitting such weakness, but she needed the rest, and she'd get none in this room by herself.
"I don't mind, so long as you explain it to Jade..."
*****
The streets were filled with menacing shadows as she stalked purposefully, crossbow in hand. The vampire she was hunting suddenly appeared before her and she fired, the bolt passing clean through its chest. Then it lifted its face to her – and her mother dissolved into dust. Her eyes followed the motes’ passage to the ground and rested on the bodies of her parents and Patrick where they lay in a gory heap. Her mother held out her bloody arms and implored, “Tash, why did you kill me?”
Something was holding her and she thrashed, trying to fight free of the restraint. The cries from her nightmare still echoed through the room as she struggled out of sleep. Tears streaked her face, sweat bathed her body and the sheets were tangled around her legs. An arm was wrapped comfortingly around her waist and she turned to bury her face in Victor’s shoulder… and jumped when she saw Sorrow.
"It's all right."
Sorrow held Tash closer, preventing her escape. Enveloping her in a loose hug he gently stroked her back offering what comfort he could. Looking over her shoulder at the bedside clock he saw it was mid-morning but you wouldn't have been able to tell by the almost palpable darkness surrounding them. Dipping his head to more easily meet her gaze Sorrow raised his hands and gently wiped the tears from Tash's cheeks. "Better?"
Tash drew a shuddering breath and nodded. As the last vestiges of nightmare faded she felt her heart rate return to normal.
“Sorry,” she apologised, “I get that dream most nights. My family…” She gave a light sigh and let herself relax into Sorrow’s soothing strokes on her back. “I’ll be okay soon.” She smiled weakly, “I don’t know how Victor puts up with it, really.”
“It might have something to do with the fact that he loves you." He gave her a slight squeeze, "People will put up with an awful lot for love." Sorrow glanced towards the door, "Sleeping with those things nearby can't help matters."
Releasing Tash, Sorrow untangled the sheets and settled back against the pillow. "I think we could use a couple of hours more - do you get these more than once a night?"
"Not usually. Once a night is way more than enough for me as it is." Tash curled on her side facing Sorrow. In the darkness she could barely make him out, but for the slight flicker of his aura.
"Thanks," she said softly, "I really don't think I could have rested at all by myself. Ha!” she laughed deprecatingly, “Look at me - some fearsome vampire hunter I am."
“Don't mention it... If I'd been thinking I'd have realised we needed to rest and we could have stayed at Poplar instead of under a vampire’s roof."
Sorrow smiled in the darkness, "And fearsome? I don't know many hunters who'd sleep in the lair of the vampire that tried to turn them. We're both frightened but neither of us have let it control us. Sometimes that's all we can ask for."
"I just hope it's enough." Tash sighed again and closed her eyes. "Get some sleep. We'll both be short of it in the days to come, I imagine."
After a moment she spoke quietly into the dark, “Tris?”
“Hmm?”
“We’ll get her out.”
Drugs & Dreams
Sunday, 11 September 2005 - 7pm, L.A time
Monday, 12 September 2005 - 4am, Bremen local time
Reintroducing Kevin Spacey as Michael Gemmel
It was dark. The blue walls looked almost black due to the lack of light. The only illumination the room had came from a dim bulb hanging overhead, unless one counted the sliver of light that shone in from the gap under the cast iron door...
It was quiet. But one expected that from being so far underground. The only sounds punctuating the silence were the monotonous beeps from the machines that filled the room to overflowing and the whirring of the climate control.
It was cold. It had to be because of the delicacy of some of the equipment being used.
Despite the frigid temperatures, the doctor - a man with grey hair and tired eyes - went about his tasks slowly, meticulously. He suppressed a shiver as he injected a stronger sedative into the intravenous drip attached to the young woman's arm, the fourth they had used in the last 24 hours... The previous three had worn off much faster than they had expected and there had been chaos the first time, when the girl had tried to escape.
After he had administered the drug, the doctor scrutinised the girl carefully. There was no saying how long she would stay under this time, even with the increased dosage. He had expressed his concerns about overdose earlier but Michael Gemmel had been adamant. She was to be kept drugged, as often as needed, and under lock and key. No one other than the doctor, Gemmel himself and three of his trusted subordinates were allowed into the room, which was guarded around the clock by at least four armed men.
*She looks like a porcelain doll.* The doctor wondered for the umpteenth time what such a slight girl had done to deserve such treatment but he knew better than to ask questions. Gemmel had made it abundantly clear that discretion was of paramount important and it was no secret what Gemmel was capable of if his orders were not obeyed. Shaking his head, the doctor pressed on the intercom next to the door and asked the guards to let him out. He glanced at the girl once more as the heavy door was dragged open, then left the room.
Jade's long, dark hair was braided and tucked neatly under her head. Her face looked waxy and bloodless in the dim white light. She lay unmoving on a narrow cot, heavy restraints binding her body tightly to the bed. The little white puffs on mist made as she exhaled were barely discernable and it was only the steady rise and fall of her chest and the beeping of the heart monitor that indicated that she was alive.
**********
Reintroducing Johnny Depp as the Great Vampire Valerian
There was so much blood... Pools of it had collected beneath her parents' bodies, soaking through the carpet, drenching the room with its harsh, metallic smell. Streaks of it defaced the walls, the furniture and the ceiling, turning the home she knew so well into a nightmarish hellhole. Only the vampire and her remained untouched. Jade stood immobile in the middle of it all, every part of her screaming silently as she watched Valerian rip at her sister's throat. She heard the horrid gurgling as Junie choked on her own blood, saw the point when Junie's eyes filmed over, knew the exact second her beloved sister was dead. Valerian flung the body aside, wiped the blood off with the back of his hand before turning to her, eyes glowing like black coals in the night. "They deserved to die little one. They kept you from me, denied you your natural father and birthright. They deserved to die..."
The church was empty. And cold... so cold... Jade walked slowly towards the front... towards the closed coffin that stood surrounded by wreaths of white flowers, their cloying scent almost making her gag. With trembling hands, she reached out and touched the lid... its surface was cool and smooth. Struggling to keep the panic at bay, Jade pushed at it, her legs almost giving out in relief when the lid opened and she failed to recognise the man lying within. He was old... His face was gaunt with age and riddled with lines. His hair, white and sparse, was barely noticeable against the silken lining of the coffin. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and looked at her... And Jade began to scream... His eyes were green... Bright, emerald green...
The four men were seated, their backs ramrod straight and regal. When Jade knelt before them, the one nearest to her stood and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh. Soul of my soul, childe of the dark. You have understood at last where you belong. You have returned to embrace what was yours for the taking from the beginning. The Brotherhood welcome your return to the night..."
Jade gasped in pleasure at the punch of power that flowed through her. She lifted her head from the man's neck, blood dripping from her fangs as she savoured the hot rush that came from draining him of his life force. The gemstones around her throat matched the red of the blood-soaked carpet and glittered as she twirled around the ballroom, intoxicated on death, drunk on pain...
The sun had barely set before Valerian opened his eyes. A sardonic smile twisted his face as the images of the dreams he had been sending Jade lingered on in his mind...
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Sunday, 11th September 7:15pm
The sun had set a few minutes earlier and now only artificial light filtered through the windows that had, for a few brief hours, left Tash and Sorrow's room a sanctuary against the monsters they had been forced to spend the day with. If their activity over those few hours had been nervous, Sorrow doubted many would have fared better. Though it seemed they had risen before their hosts, for the last hour the sounds of movement had reached Sorrow's ears and mere minutes ago they had heard Valerian’s powerful voice chant in some unfathomable language.
Glancing around the rapidly darkening room Sorrow slipped the straps of Hizashi's sheath over his shoulders and looked to Tash. "Time to find out what the leech has been up to."
Tash looked up from her position on the floor where she'd been meditating quietly for some time. Her fear hadn't really dissipated at all but she was more able to focus through it now, at least. Nodding resignedly, she rose and ensured her own weapons were in place. They were unlikely to do her any good if Valerian broke his bond, but they comforted her nevertheless.
"I can't help but think of that nursery rhyme. You know the one... 'Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly.' That thing," she nodded towards the rich baritone sounds floating up the hallway, "makes a particularly nasty spider."
She patted herself down one last time and headed towards the door. "Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be I guess," she said as she grasped the doorknob and pulled.
Sorrow and Tash walked into the main lounge of Valerian's 'humble' home to find Sam talking animatedly into a phone and Valerian scowling into a glass of what could be mistaken for a very rich red wine. However, as he noticed Tash and Sorrow he brightened considerably.
"Ah! Natasha, Tristan, I thought you'd sleep forever. Did you have a pleasant night?" His smile was positively wicked. "Please sit down. Samantha is just arranging our transport. You must be famished, can we get you something to eat?"
Sorrow looked at the glass then glanced at Tash; despite the sudden queasy feeling that assaulted his stomach he needed to eat.
Uneasy or not, Tash's stomach was still insisting that food was a good idea. Doing her best to ignore the coppery smell of fresh blood, she cleared her throat, "Just show us where the kitchen is - assuming you have actual food."
Valerian peered down his nose in disdain. "And what sort of host would I be if I didn't make provision for guests, however unexpected? A variety of comestibles have been brought in. Would you care for a little poached fish perhaps, or would venison be more to your taste?"
Tash's nose wrinkled. "Uh, sorry, too rich for me. Do you have coffee? Perhaps a bagel?"
Throwing his free hand up in disgust, Valerian turned back to the contemplation of his glass. "Uncouth Americans. Very well - Samantha, direct them to the kitchen."
They kept breakfast simple and a little while later they returned to the lounge with a tray piled with a variety of foodstuffs. Sorrow and Tash settled down to eat while Sam returned to the phone.
"So, transportation,” Sorrow spoke between mouthfuls, “Where are we going?"
“It seems Jadyn's capturers are taking few risks. It appears she has been taken out of the country. She's somewhere in Western Europe at the moment. France, or possibly Germany."
Sorrow shared a look with Tash. "You're not the sort who can just hop on a aircraft - they have these annoying things we call windows. How do you propose to get to Western Europe?"
Tash frowned, "And how could you possibly manage to learn that's where she is?"
"I'm well aware of the idiosyncrasies of public air travel. However, they do not concern me. Wealth is easy to accumulate over the length of time I've existed. A private jet will be taking us. Samantha is finalising the details now."
Valerian looked balefully at Tash, "Essentially the same way that Tristan sought to find her. Sympathetic magic... the link of parent to child augmented by our shared vampiric nature makes it easy to perform and difficult to block, especially since they are keeping her drugged and her mind cannot fight me as it usually does."
Tash and Sorrow shared another look. "Uh huh," Tash murmured, not liking the sound of that one bit. Swallowing the last of her coffee, she tried to hide her consternation. "So," she said brightly, "how soon can we leave?"
Valerian walked to where the pair sat and offered Tash his arm. "It will be prepared for us by the time we reach the airfield, if you'd care to accompany me."
"Fine, I'm ready," Tash said as she rose unassisted. "Just don't come near me. You promised..."
"Ah, but Natasha, I gave my word you would be unharmed. What harm could a mere touch do? You cut me to the quick." Valerian feigned hurt feelings, a small smirk belying the attempt.
Tash responded with a look that could kill at ten paces, and faced Sorrow as he stood smoothly. "Let's get our gear.”
“We'll be back in a minute," she called over her shoulder to the vampire as he stayed in the room with delight dancing in his eyes. Another round to him, dammit. Tash chose to ignore the cruel smile on Sam's face as she stalked out of the room with Sorrow.
They got their bags and walked in silence to the elevator. Samantha arrived from another direction with a number of suitcases. As the elevator doors glided open Valerian appeared, his smile still in place. They got in and rode the elevator downwards. Valerian's continued amusement was palpable and only added to the two humans’ discomfort.
**********
Valerian's limo pulled into the same small private airfield that he had arrived at a few weeks earlier. The plane stood on the taxiway, its engines already idling. While the four travellers went aboard ground crew loaded the small amount of luggage.
Sorrow looked around the plane...
Wood veneer and leather. Lots of leather. "Valerian, Have you ever heard of 'too much'?" Sorrow settled into one of the chairs, took in the bar on one side and turned to the second vampire, "I'll have a scotch, Samantha."
Sam curled her lip and shot a glance to Valerian, expecting him to put this human in his place, but he waved for her to do as she was bid. Her back stiff, she poured the scotch and handed it to Sorrow with a saccharine smile. "Would you like your pillow plumped, too?" she asked sweetly.
Sorrow gave this fledgling - who currently existed only because of her sire’s request - the most dismissive look he could muster. "If it needs it I'll ask."
Sorrow swirled the whisky in its glass and looked to Valerian. "Where are we landing?"
Valerian stretched languidly in his seat before replying, "There's a little private airstrip near Tours, in France. Make yourselves comfortable, please. It will be a long flight." He cast his predatory smile at both of his guests. "But I'm sure we can pass the time pleasantly."
Tash gave Valerian a pointed look. "This plane is shielded from the sun, and we could have slept here well enough. I hardly think it took you all day to work out where Jade is, so why waste all that time at your house?"
"Because, my dear, Jadyn was still in flight this morning. I dislike chasing my quarry all over the sky. Yes, you could have slept here as easily as at my home but my home gave the illusion of privacy that this plane doesn't." He smiled at Tash, "So we will let them flee. And when they go to ground we will find them and I will rescue what is mine and punish all those who think to harm my daughter. The only reason you are here is so that Jadyn does nothing foolish when I effect that rescue. Are we clear Natasha?"
Tash responded with a predatory smile of her own. "Oh, crystal." She cast a sidelong glance at Sorrow, who seemed fixated on observing the contents of his glass, "And once you've 'rescued' Jade, I imagine you plan to try to subvert her again. Trust me, I fully intend to make sure Jade doesn't do anything foolish."
"Must we have this out again? I have no need to subvert Jadyn; in time she will come to me. Perhaps it will be when you die, old and wrinkled and she is still in the apparent first flush of youth." Valerian sat back in his chair, "You see I have time. I will wait and watch and let the bitterness creep into her soul. I'll be there immortal and undying, knowing the pain of watching humanity come and go, of watching the world you know vanish in a maelstrom of progress. And I shall offer her safe harbour and power she could not imagine. And when it is done, do you know what she will do Natasha? She will curse her foolish pride that took so much from her when she could have had it for eternity."
He gestured to Sam. "But a parent must let his children make their own mistakes. He cannot protect them from the vagaries of the heart." He smiled magnanimously and took the drink Sam had prepared. "So I will wait."
Tash snorted, "Hear that, Sorrow? You're a vagary, apparently."
"Apparently so..." Sorrow sipped at his drink and looked over the rim of his glass. Tash could get no sense of his feelings; indeed his shields had been shut up tight ever since the limo ride here. "Neither of us has been particularly successful in predicting Jade's thoughts and actions. You'll forgive me if I ignore your latest 'prophecy' of victory."
Valerian smiled indulgently, "Ah, my dear Tristan. My daughter's future is with me. You know that. You could have been a part of that future. Instead you chose," he waved in Sorrow's direction deprecatingly, "this."
Sorrow returned Valerian's smile. "Somehow I think she'll ignore all our wishes. And I, my dear Valerian, am more than happy with this."
Valerian’s smile grew icy. “Foolish boy, do you think Jadyn’s love will last as you grow old and feeble and wither away before her eyes? It is but a transitory thing. My love is eternal.”
"But I'm not going to grow old and feeble... one of your kind is going to rip my throat out.”
"Then she shall come to me all the sooner, won't she? With you no longer holding her back she can realise her full potential with me."
Sorrow met Valerian's gaze and smiled. It held a deep abiding amusement, that smile. It spoke volumes about its wearer’s hidden knowledge and for a moment - just a moment - Valerian faltered.
Tash lifted her head from where she'd let it flop backwards. "Are you two going to insist on raising the testosterone level until it can be cut with a knife? 'Cause if you are, then I'm going to move seats.”
Sam valiantly tried to stifle her laughter but the almost identical looks Tash received from Valerian and Sorrow proved too much for her. As her peals of laughter filled the cabin Valerian turned angrily to his childe. "Enough!"
"Looks like you've got a discipline problem there Val," Sorrow grinned.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
***** 1PM on Monday September 12, 2005
Ian was watching a portable television he’d brought with him. His eyes were straining at the tiny 9” screen. The voice from the back room made him look away and his head swam as his focus changed. “Ian, did you make those calls I asked you to make?”
Ian rubbed his eyes; this was too much like damn work. Mentally his debt to Tash shrank even more. “Yes, Victor I made the calls.” He ticked the names off his fingers, “Bloke named Galen, gal named Alice, bird in the building named Reah. No answers at any of ‘em.”
Victor harrumphed loud enough for Ian to hear. It was obvious from the twitching of Victor’s arms and legs that the trip upstairs had taken a lot out of him. Ian walked back to the bedroom and leaned on the doorjamb. “Look, we are going to get along a lot better if you don’t keep asking me to do stuff twice. I’ll do it. Promise.”
Victor continued to lay flat and motionless. With his eyes closed he said, “I understand.”
Ian shrugged and walked back to the lounge and sat back on the couch. He was kicking himself for not bringing his Gameboy when he noticed there were other notes on the pad of paper Victor had given him.
There was the beginning of a classified ad there: “Full Time Receptionist needed for Apartment building and Import Export business. Must be computer literate and capable of balancing accounts.”
Henna. Ian felt a little choke in his throat. This he would do on his own for Victor. He started penning the ad: “Full time Girl Friday to assist diversified businessman with accounts and handling mundane details. Professional demeanour and breadth of knowledge are a must. Preferred young and attractive.” He scratched out the last part before putting his name and Victor’s number on the ad and began to look for the number of the classified section.
***** Monday 5PM
Ian set down the phone receiver and pulled the pink message slip off the pad. He walked it into the bedroom where Victor was laying on his side. His fingers were twitching. Ian set the note on the side stand. Galen was coming with a friend tomorrow - they were going to meet Victor for lunch. As Ian was leaving, Victor spoke.
“I’m sorry Ian. I hate to have to depend on anyone. I am used to being damn near invinc…er independent. Every time I get laid up I feel this way. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”
Ian waved a hand, “No worries.” And that was that. Ian hated to admit it but he totally understood where Victor was coming from. He had been there himself. Tash would remember those times. She’d tend his injuries, set him in bed and tuck him in with good painkillers. She was such a mum sometimes. Of course he always tried to play it into something sexual, but deep down he was glad she turned him down. It would be like doing his sister. Damn his sister was hot.
***** Tuesday 11am
Ian was running the Swiffer over the floor to pick up some dust. He had already cleaned the sink and straightened up some. He chuckled that he never did this at home and Victor had not asked him to do it. It was sort of expected he thought.
He heard the knock on the door and opened it for the guests. He shook the hand of the first man, Galen, and did a casual pump of the second man’s hand. He showed them to the couch and went back to get Victor.
Victor walked out slowly holding onto Ian. His stiff movements made Galen raise an eyebrow. Victor just held up a hand. “I’m fine, just healing means a little step backwards sometimes while you mend.”
Ian guided him softly into the other couch and went back to the kitchen to get the lunch. He set the sandwiches on the coffee table between the four of them. Victor was looking a little ashen and he kept poking his finger under the neck brace. Galen's partner looked around the apartment with a detective's eye.
"So Mr. Anderson, I see you admiring my stone. It’s a grave marker from Sumeria. I am somewhat of a collector of items of historical significance. Do you know much history?"
"A bit, but not about Sumeria," James replied as his eyes panned around the apartment. It almost seemed like there was something vaguely out of place, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. "What's the significance to this one?"
Victor looked at the katana hanging on the wall, "That katana was left to me by a Bushido friend of mine. I didn't want it, but I could not refuse it either. I consider it a shame that it is even here. It deserves to be in the hands of a Bushido again."
Victor tried to bring the conversation back to center. "Galen, you’ve been in civil service a long time. You may be able to help me; I want to get Poplar Avenue listed in the Historic register. But I want to bypass the petition and publicity."
Galen could catch on to what Victor was trying to say, and had just been put in a tight spot. James was too by-the-book to believe any of the truth, or even to approve of it, he suspected. “You do know that would be technically illegal, right?” he said cautiously.
James was busy fidgeting at the sudden turn of the conversation. “I can understand wanting to avoid the publicity,” he asked suspiciously. “Why the petition, though?”
Victor tried to keep his voice casual, but Ian and James' presence made it difficult, "This building is almost 200 years old. It qualifies as a historic landmark. It is privately owned... by me. But I wish to see it preserved in perpetuity beyond me.
“This involves setting up a trust, which I can do legally as a non profit organization. But in order to be considered you usually need a petition to present to your senator. I'd like to bypass that requirement. But I don't know any senators."
Victor started to stand but Ian tsked his tongue. So Victor settled back and continued, "I am a fairly wealthy person..."
Ian's muttered, "Oh yes," earned him a dirty look.
"...so I'd rather not advertise that I am living in a, shall we say, tough neighborhood." Victor nodded at his crafted rationalization. It sounded all very plausible.
Ian thought it sounded like bullshit. Victor was up to something, but who was he to stand in the way of a good scam? He leant against a wall and waited to see if these government goons would buy it.
James thought Victor was hiding something, but wasn't quite sure what. He thought Galen was willing to believe him, but wasn't quite sure what to make of that. His new partner was fairly odd, sometimes seeming to know more than he should. Especially about some of the odder events in the city.
Galen was busy trying to think of a way to make it clear to Victor he might not have that kind of pull any more without saying so, even if he knew people who did. "Afraid people will think they have someone born to the purple here?" he joked.
"Does being black and blue count?" Victor laughed back, "But seriously, this sort of thing happens often. Many buildings become personal projects of congress people. I'd like to see if we could secure such a position without attracting unwanted attention. If you know anyone whom I can call or talk to that could be every bit as helpful. I just need to know where to start."
"I might know someone," Galen replied, pulling out his notebook. He scribbled a name and number quickly before handing it to Victor. "Some people in my old office should be able to help you. This is the number of the man who replaced me."
As he handed it to Victor, he noticed the look on James' face that screamed: just what is going on here?
"Old office? You’ve transferred? You aren't with... that... other department, whatever it was? Can't remember suddenly." Victor felt like a moron; he knew Galen was planning retirement from MJ12 he just assumed it would be farther off. He had mistaken this 'partner' as a cover for Galen’s civilian identity as an FBI assistant director.
"Yes, well, you know how it is with the Bureau," Galen said, sighing. "You eventually get tired of all the paperwork... and it just happened there was a position in the LAPD opening up. I think you met my replacement, once... that night when I was, erm, drunk."
"Please, don't tell me that's Henry," James said, trying to suppress a laugh. Galen nodded once. "Maybe you should have stayed with the Bureau after all, after some of the stories you've told."
Victor took a quick glace at the paper and saw Henry's name and a local number. He would call that one himself later without Ian.
Inwardly Victor sighed in relief. Perhaps his gaffe had helped diffuse a potentially suspicious situation after all. He started to look over at Ian and gasped in pain as his neck protested. He could see Ian's subtle head shake, a telltale sign of disbelief.
Ian fussed over Victor, settling a pillow behind his neck for more support, "Now don't be hurting yourself," he said in semi-mock solicitude, "or Missy Tash will hurt me." As he fussed unnecessarily with the pillow he cast a sidelong glance at Victor.
He couldn't help but wonder at the charmed life Victor seemed to lead. That these guys were going along with this was incredible, especially after that clumsy exchange. But then again, the younger one seemed to be in on whatever deal Victor was trying to pull. Maybe he could help...
"Would you like another coffee?" he asked as he whirled to face the pair, accidentally knocking James' half-empty cup right into the man's lap. It was times like these Ian found his lankiness a distinct advantage. People tended to assume he would be clumsy. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Ian's distress almost felt real, even to himself. "Here, come to the bathroom and I'll get you cleaned up." As Ian walked a spluttering, furious James out of the lounge room he cast a sly wink over his shoulder at Victor.
Victor returned the wink and mouthed "thanks" at Ian while he cut off James' view.
Galen shook his head at the exchange, wondering if the clumsiness was intentional. "Victor, I'm sorry, that's all I can do," he finally said, quietly. "I'm out of that business now."
Victor smiled, "It's okay, Galen, you deserve to be out. Will Henry know it was you who gave me this number? All I need is a foot in the door, I can sell it from there."
"Probably, but Henry's good if a little laid back." That last would do as a candidate for understatement of the year until a better one came along. "Still had enough pull on the way out to handpick my replacement. Henry's decent... not like some people."
Victor tried to keep his voice low, "Anyone I should look out for?"
"Jen Lawson," he said instantly, feeling a slight twang of guilt at having shot her. "Don't know where she's got to now, but she was working for Anthony Constillias. She's, uh... missing an ear."
Victor raised an eyebrow but he could hear Ian finishing his 'act' in the other room. He had to be brief, "I owe you big, Galen. Anything I can do for you right now?"
"At the moment? Just don't dig into the agency," he replied. "Someone was already doing that. They tried to kill us both."
Victor feigned fatigue. With the neck brace it looked mostly convincing. "James, nice to meet you, sorry again I can't stand to thank you properly. Galen, thanks for coming over. Once I am better healed Kate and you will have to join Tash and me for dinner."
"We would be glad to," Galen said, his mind suddenly jumping on the excuse, which let him use this an excuse in the first place. "Hey James, want to make Robbery division's day? My CI here just gave up a nice tidbit."
"Really?" James asked, hiding his suspicions at how odd the day had been. "Well then, let's go. Nice to meet you." Galen winked conspiratorially at Victor as they began to head out.
Strangers
Thursday, September 15th, 2005
6:02 PM
Having realized that his stay in LA would be for an indefinite amount of time, it was in the fae’s best interest to find a more permanent residence. Darian hadn’t wished to conduct an extensive search for an apartment, so when he saw the “Vacant apartments” sign in the window he did not think twice before he called and inquired about the details. To the landlord’s surprise, Darian agreed to sign the lease without even so much as seeing the tenement.
Darian stepped into the lobby of the large building and took a quick look around. *For what I can afford, it's not bad at all,* he thought to himself as the landlord appeared from the elevator to greet him.
“You must be Mr. Gray, how nice to meet you. I have all the papers right here, but are you sure you don’t want to see your room before you sign?”
“It's quite all right, I’m not a picky person. As long as it has a bedroom and bathroom I'll be fine,” he responded pleasantly to the landlord.
“It’s your call, you just have to sign here… and here… All right, and I'll need the first month's rent.”
Darian reached for his wallet and retrieved the sufficient amount of money. *I’ve got to get a job soon,* he thought as he realized that his funds were beginning to lack. As much as he hated to waste time, he wouldn’t be able to help Sebastian if he didn’t have the money to buy food.
“If you would follow me, I'll show you to the apartment.”
“Actually,” Darian interrupted, “I’m in a bit of a rush. If you wouldn’t mind just giving me my keys, I'll see it later tonight.”
The landlord did as requested and gave Darian the keys. While leaving the building, Darian’s stomach let out a low rumble. *Man, I’ve been so busy I forgot to eat today.*
Having little money and no time to go grocery shopping for supper, Darian decided to eat a quick meal at the closest restaurant he could find. Conveniently located just in front of his building was The Laughing Dog, a grease smelling fast-food joint, with a ridiculously large sign of a cartoon dog as its logo. *It's no Russian tea room,* he thought as he pushed the door open, revealing the clashing red and yellow colour pattern of the restaurant. Darian made his way to the far corner, not wanting to be disturbed by anyone. His recently failed attempt to restore Sebastian had left him in somewhat of a bitter mood.
It was just one of those nights where Tarix’s mind was wandering to places. She had been on her five minute break and already she had extended it by ten minutes. *Ten lovely minutes.*
She sighed and decided that she should go back up front before her boss came up behind her and showed her his tonsils, which she had no desire of looking at. *Besides, I want my hearing to remain as it is, without being shouted at, at high octaves.* She got off the trash can she was sitting on in the alleyway, and memories of the night last week came back to her when she had ‘experimented’ with her power. She shrugged the memory off and went up front. She put her apron back on and went back to work. One of her fellow staff mates told her that table four was no longer empty and needed service.
When Tarix approached the table, she saw that seated there with his back towards her was a strikingly handsome man in his twenties or so, she estimated. Tarix saw his reflection in the glass. With his black hair and purple eyes, Tarix felt that he had a far away glance on his face.
She shook herself and came back to Earth. “Errr, excuse me? May I help you?” she said.
Startled, Darian looked up to see who had brought him back from his daydreaming. A young, attractive blonde waitress stood before him, her hair tied back in a pony tail. Atop her head rested a very ludicrous looking uniform hat. *Poor girl.*
"Oh hey... yeah umm... To be honest I hadn't actually looked at the menu. Have any suggestions on what’s good?" he asked and he gave the girl a slight smile.
Long ago, he probably would have taken this opportunity to flirt with the dashing waitress, but now, relationships and dating were the last thing on his mind.
Tarix smiled in return. *I hope it doesn’t look like as if I am flirting.* She turned serious and handed the man a menu. "Hmmm, something good to eat here - that’s a hard question."
She realised she had spoken it out loud and blushed. *I am not supposed to scare the customers,* she mentally kicked herself.
Darian gave light chuckle in response to her brief faux pas. "That’s all right, just bring me the number one, with a water instead of coke please."
When the young woman reached to take his menu, her wrist briefly made contact with his. Darian felt a strange sense of power inside this girl. He was by no means a psychic, but his fae side often picked up on such magical presences. *I must be really tired.*
As she reached in to take his menu, she was sure that she felt a spark as their wrists momentarily met. *Hey, remember what happened with your last so-called boyfriend,* she warned herself, but she couldn’t help looking up into his deep pool of purple eyes. Startled she suddenly stood up.
"Um, uh, I, I'll get you that, the number one, and water, yes...." she blabbered, and quickly disappeared.
After a while, when she thought she was ready, she came back out with the "Dog Burger Special". She put the order in front of him. "Is that all?" she asked.
"Yeah that’s fine, thanks." Again he gave the beautiful waitress a smile as she walked off to serve another table. *She really is something,* he thought as he quickly finished his meal. *Why do I have a feeling I'll be eating here a lot?* he mused as he paid the check at the cashier, and exited the restaurant.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
The Bibliophile - Alhambra, Los Angeles
Monday, 5th September 2005
10:00am
Kate watched the taxi drive off as she crossed the street and headed towards The Bibliophile. Her head was still spinning from the events of the past few days but that wasn’t the reason why she felt sick inside. As she wove her way through the parked cars and crowds of late morning shoppers she couldn’t help but remember the look on Galen’s face when he’d come home last night. He’d been meeting with Algernon that night to discuss the progress being made in tracking the doppelgangers down. Galen came home with a list of all the ‘hits’ that had be successfully ‘removed’ and Kate had immediately recognised the name of a young girl who worked for Daye at Bibliophile… who had worked for Daye…
As Kate pushed open the heavy swing-door to the entrance of Bibliophile she was jostled to one side by a couple of college kids laughing and joking around. Kate had seen the advertisement in the local paper announcing the 'Grand Re-Opening' but she was still surprised to see just how busy the shop actually was.
Kate walked around amazed at the changes that had taken place; Bibliophile was hardly recognisable as the tiny arcane bookstore she had known when she first came to Los Angeles. To the left was the new restaurant area, lushly decorated with marble top tables and wrought iron furniture. The shop itself was as filled with greenery as it was with books. Antique artefacts graced tiny nooks here and there as people sat reading newspapers and drinking their designer coffee while eating pastries. Kate looked up and saw with amazement an entire new level that had been added. Customers languidly perused the shelves of this more secluded area of the shop lit with intimate looking candelabras. The aroma of freshly boiled coffee seemed to filter into every corner of Bibliophile and beneath that the old scent of candle wax and parchment.
Kate was astounded, as she continued to look around for Daye. She saw a young girl serving coffee and managed to catch hold of her. "Hi I'm looking for Daye, do you know where she is?"
The girl, walking around with a tray serving coffee and pastries to the young crowd, turned her attention on Kate with a winning smile. "Daye?" she repeated, sounding confused. Loud laughter broke out from a nearby corner as the rowdy young men who'd just entered settled in at one of the tables, waiting for the waitress to take their orders.
"Um, Amanda... Blaise..." said Kate trying to keep pace with the girl as she flitted from table to table.
"Oh," the girl nodded, accepting a tip deftly from a customer and slipping it into the pocket of her apron. "Sure, no problem. Miss Blaise is in her office. It's over there."
The girl pointed to a closed door behind the counter. "She's going to be taking interviews all morning. Are you here for a position? Cause Mrs. W can probably help you if you need an appointment. She's the lady at the counter."
Kate tried to protest to the young girl that she was only trying to see Daye but it made no difference. The young girl smiled brightly and hustled Kate over to the counter where a middle-aged woman stood looking through a few files.
"She's here for one of the positions advertised, her name's... sorry what was your name again?" asked the waitress as she idly flicked through her pad of orders.
Kate sighed in exasperation, "Catherine... Wiccham, I mean Kate but I..." the young girl quickly hurried back to her tables as the crowd of rowdy men dropped a cup on the floor. Kate turned her attention to the woman behind the counter, "I only wanted to see Daye, I mean Amanda, she's an old friend of mine."
Alicia Wyldling looked up from the paperwork she had been reviewing and studied the woman before her. *The witch who used to be with the Coven,* she thought. *She's lovely.*
"All right, Miss Wiccham," Mrs. Wyldling's accent was a reminder of home for Kate. "Although, to be honest, Daye may rook you into working here if you’re not careful. I don't think she was quite prepared for the sudden rise in popularity the refit has shown."
The woman led the way to the back of the shop and knocked as a sign of courtesy before opening the door. “Amanda, there’s a young woman here to see you…” Mrs Wyldling smiled at Kate before turning to leave the room.
Daye glanced up from the application she was reviewing, one of those phone headsets on her ear. She smiled a truly delighted smile at Kate, but held up one finger to indicate she needed a minute. "Yes, hello, Miss...uhm...," Daye scanned the paper in front of her quickly, "Miss Kennedy?" Daye gestured for Kate to come in and close the door behind her.
"Yes," Daye continued speaking into the headset. She mouthed an apology to Kate as she entered the office. "This is Miss Blaise, from the bookshop. I would like you to come in for an interview," Daye continued after a pause. "Ok, can you make it in today, then? Right, good," Daye shifted some papers to expose a desk calendar. "I can fit you in at 11:30. Great. See you then."
Daye pushed a button on her phone and whipped the headset off, sighing. "God, Kate," she said, "sorry. This place is a madhouse. Melissa never showed up on Saturday and I need more help anyway. I didn't realize how well people would respond to the new shop. I haven't nearly enough staff and I've had to call in temps for the restaurant every night." Daye smiled wearily at her friend. "So, what's up?" she asked. "Looking for a job?"
Kate smiled half-heartedly as she sat down and squeezed Daye’s hand, “I’ve been looking for you. So much has been happening lately I thought it was about time someone told you.”
Kate looked away for a moment trying to figure out how to explain everything. “Daye, I’m afraid this is a little more than just a social call. I have something to tell you and… well I’m afraid it isn’t good news. It’s about the girl you were just talking about, the girl who used to work here, Melissa…” Kate paused, feeling the sting of using the past tense about someone Daye still thought was alive. She watched Daye’s face with concern as she continued, “She died.”
Daye gasped, half rising from her chair. "What?" she asked, her confusion evident. "When? How? Why haven't I heard about this? Where did you hear that?" Daye's questions came out in a rush. "Are you sure?"
Kate nodded sadly and continued to tell Daye about everything that had happened during the last week including the run-in with her very own doppelganger and all that Tash and Victor had told her about their experience with the copies. She could tell Daye was finding it difficult to take all this in but she had to know the truth.
Finally Kate re-told the fight a few days ago with the Evil Entity in Poplar and the Basement Monster including everything she had read about the Circle of Osiris and how Tash, Victor and herself had been working to re-structure the third floor of Poplar Avenue to make sure that the containment spell would hold.
“Melissa… there’s no real way of knowing exactly when she was ‘copied’, all we know is that the doppelgangers exhibited reckless behaviour bordering on sadistic in every way. They seemed to thrive on danger and excitement, we think it was how they kept the evil entity alive. Majestic took it upon themselves to ‘deal’ with the doppelganger ‘problem’. it may seem harsh, how they were just hunted down, but the copies had no guilt, no remorse. They only lived to fulfil their own desires and to serve the Entity. Whatever was walking around pretending to be Melissa over the last week, it wasn’t the girl you knew.”
Daye sat back in her chair, aghast at all she had heard. She couldn't believe what she missed. "I guess I've been asleep on the job," she said softly. "I'm so sorry I haven't been around to help you guys out. I've been so busy around here, I didn't think to call and see how everyone was. My God, poor Melissa." Daye suddenly looked stricken. "Oh God," her voice was anguished, "Joshua. How am I going to tell him about this? He's going to be devastated."
“I’m so sorry Daye,” said Kate squeezing Daye’s hand again in comfort. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you. I just thought it would be better coming from a friend.”
Daye nodded. "It is. Believe me, I'm glad you told me," she replied. "I just hate to think how much this is going to hurt Joshua. He fancies himself half in love with Melissa since the party. I'm not sure what he'll think. He's been pretty worried about her since she didn't show up on Saturday though. I think deep down he suspects something isn't right."
Daye sighed. "I'll have to talk to him tonight," she continued. "I'll just tell him the truth. After what happened here, he'll believe me. I know that. Is there any other bad news?"
Kate shook her head and the two friends sat in silence for a while, each lost in their thoughts. After a moment had passed Kate broke the silence. “I’m sorry that I let our argument stop me from seeing you until now. You’ve always been such a wonderful friend Daye; I’d hate to think that I’d lost your friendship… I mean Ryan…”
Daye seemed puzzled for a moment. "Ryan?" she repeated. "That's silly. There's no reason for Ryan to come between us. And it wasn't an argument that kept us apart. I've been busy. You've been busy. There's nothing else going on." Daye smiled brightly. "It's so good to see you, though," she said. "How are you? How's Galen? Everything perfect in your lover's paradise?"
Kate looked lost and almost as puzzled as Daye sounded. Part of her wondered if Daye was even aware how often she just seemed to ‘forget’ these arguments between them. Kate frowned; it was obvious that the situation with Ryan was far from resolved. “Things are good…” she stumbled trying not to let Daye’s fickle mood swings appear too bizarre. She suddenly thought back to Daye’s joke of a job offer; suddenly it didn’t seem so comical. If she worked at Bibliophile it would be the perfect way to keep an eye on Daye.
“Didn’t you say something about a job vacancy?” she said with a smile.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Thursday, September 15th, 2005
9:15 PM
As the last customer of Laughing Dogs left, Tarix saw her boss go up to the main door and lock it, also turning the “Sorry, we’re closed” sign facing the outside. Before he could come to her and give her some extra task to do, Tarix quickly grabbed her jacket and her purse and made her way to the back door.
“See yah, Jonny,” she called out, and before she could get a reply she left. The night air blew with crispy coolness. The darkness of the alley seemed to be haunting and beautiful at the same time to Tarix. *Haunting and beautiful? I’d better ease up on those philosophical novels for a while.*
She walked towards the building that was directing behind her job. *At least it beats taking the bus all the time to a dreary neighborhood.* She walked up to the gates that separated her beloved workplace from her residence. As they weren’t locked, she easily pushed through them and made her way to the stairs.
*Although I really don’t like all these stairs.*
Tarix made her way up to her apartment. She felt herself tired and let go a nice big yawn. She approached her apartment door. *Well, I am here.* A smile lit her lips. She really loved it here. It was quiet and spacey, and best of all clean. She reached in her purse and looked for her keys.
Her fingers came across her key-chain and she pulled out the keys and started to put them in.
Darian clumsily trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor, the box of a newly purchased table in his hands. *Couldn’t they have packed this better, makes for a damned hard time getting up to the apartment.* Darian enjoyed his new home. It was relatively quiet thus insuring privacy. He stopped when he reached the desired floor, placing the box on the ground, and stretched his muscled arms to get the stiffness out. Even with his enhanced strength, hauling the heavy box up four flights was pretty tiring.
Tarix, about to open the door, heard the thump sound behind her and gave a little "Yelp" of surprise.
She turned around to find out she had surprised the stranger too. Then she realised that he wasn't a stranger after all. It was that customer from the restaurant, the one with the pretty eyes.
Darian was pleasantly surprised to see the pretty waitress from the Laughing Dog standing in front him, fumbling with her key trying to open her apartment door. "Hey you're the waitress from the restaurant in front right? What a coincidence that we live in the same building... in fact, I think im your new neighbour."
He quickly realised he had yet to learn the young woman's name. "My name's Darian by the way," he said as he extended his hand.
She felt stuck to place, feeling her shyness taking an advantage of her. Thinking it may be rude not to respond she also extended her hand, a genuine smile on her face.
"Tarix. My name is Tarix. Tarix Conny."
"Tarix, that's an odd name... I mean different... not in a bad way... ahh... It's pretty." *Smooth Darian, real smooth.*
She felt another spark as her hand touched him, and she quickly withdrew from shock. *I definitely did not imagine that.*
Again he felt the feeling of magic as he grasped her smaller hand. *There's that feeling again. Why do I keep getting the sense of power from this young girl?*
"Have you lived here long?" he asked in a desperate attempt to make small talk.
“Well, yes. Actually no. Well, I have been here under a month, is that long?”
Darian chuckled at the nervousness of Tarix. “No, it’s not that long. Well, longer then me though.”
There was a moment of reticence where both of them didn’t know what to say, except shuffle their feet.
“Well, um, so I’ll be seeing you then,” she said, “Good luck with your table.”
Darian was reminded of the table that lay at his feet. “Oh, yeah, um, thanks. Yes, I’ll be seeing you,” he replied, watching the young woman disappearing into her apartment.
Tarix closed the door behind her and waited. She heard the other door of her neighbor open and then close. *Hey, I have a neighbor. I have a handsome neighbor.* She made her way to the kitchen and drank some water, feeling herself thirsty from all the talking.
Ryan confronts mariah
***Saturday September 3, 2005, late evening***
The Night Walker shifted effortlessly to his demonic form, settling on the thick rug in his sparsely furnished apartment. He had disposed of the girl’s body the night before and slept most of the day. Now, well fed and well rested, he finally felt fully prepared to confront Mother Mariah in her lair.
The Night Walker began deep breathing exercises, focusing his mind inward, reaching for the dream/meditative state necessary for him to access Mariah’s realm.
In moments, he stood in the richly decorated audience chamber where Mariah could usually be found. Strangely, though, the child goddess was not seated upon her dais. She was nowhere in the room as far as he could see. The Night Walker stepped into the empty chamber, his concern growing as he realized that none of Mariah’s attendants waited within. Mother Mariah was never without some servant at her beck and call. The dream realm always held one or more of her sycophants hoping to curry favor.
The Night Walker strode purposefully through the audience chamber and passed through the doorway in the rear, entering Mariah’s private sanctuary. He was surprised to find her within, alone and apparently distraught. Mariah sat on the floor of the chamber, her head pillowed on her folded arms. She was sobbing quietly.
The Night Walker approached the “girl”, gently dropping a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Mother?”
Mariah turned her head to gaze up at The Night Walker. She smiled tremulously at him. “We’ve suffered a terrible loss.”
The Night Walker waited for her to explain.
“My Sam, dear, dear Sam,” she said mournfully, “he’s gone.”
“Gone?” The Night Walker knew that this Sam was the man Mariah had chosen to fill the role of her new high priest. “What happened? Has someone found out about your plans?”
Mariah shook her head. “No,” she rose to her feet gracefully. “No, Sam was involved in something…else.”
Mariah seemed confused. “I’m not sure what’s happened, but I can no longer reach him. He’s simply gone.”
The Night Walker considered her words. This seemed to be another result of Mariah’s arrogance. She had let too much time pass. Now, they had lost their hold on Daye and this man, Sam, had been lost to them as well. Fighting for control over his growing anger, The Night Walker began to speak. “Mother, surely you see we must begin to move on Daye, we must speed up our attacks. She has become all but immune to my power. And now, you have lost one of your most important allies.”
Mariah stood before The Night Walker, looking shocked at his outburst. She saw the anger, the rage simmering just below the surface of his argument. “So, you think these things are my fault,” she said. “You feel I have erred in this game, that I have become too involved in other things.”
The Night Walker did not flinch as her tone grew indignant. “I think you may have miscalculated, yes,” he replied, seething.
Mariah let her eyes close to slits as her face flushed with color. This impudent, arrogant, low level demon dared to question her actions openly. “So, you perhaps think you could do a better job running this show?” she asked. “Or maybe you just want to make a suggestion?”
“What I want is to do something,” The Night Walker growled.
“Do something?” Mariah asked. “Yes, let’s do something.”
Mariah threw her hands out and the room in which they stood shifted, becoming someplace else. The Night Walker could barely register the change, when he felt himself being manipulated. Rather than standing before Mother Mariah in her small chamber, he found himself strapped to a hard, cold slab. In a moment, he recognized the room, and his whole being filled with fear and loathing.
Mariah laughed deliciously, moving to stand over The Night Walker’s prone form. Only he wasn’t The Night Walker anymore. He wasn’t the powerful, hungry demon. He was Ryan, the weak, terrified man. And Mariah too had changed. Her voice was rich and husky and Ryan immediately recognized the laugh. He knew what he would see even before Mariah hovered over him, her face both loved and hated.
“Now, Ryan, my love,” Daye’s voice crooned out of her sweet mouth and though he knew it was not true, his mind accepted it as truth nonetheless. “Let us try and drive some of those ideas, those treacherous thoughts, out of your pretty, little head.”
Mariah/Daye bent to place her warm mouth on Ryan’s own, while with the sharp blade she held in her hand, she made shallow cuts on his arms. Ryan writhed in agony and desire, reliving the torment of his training. As his conscious awareness was overcome, Mariah/Daye continued the torture. Time stood still as the cuts and caresses combined to drive Ryan slowly mad.
Hours had passed since Ryan entered the dream world. He had awoken, bathed in a pool of his own sweat and blood, feeling weak and worn. Ryan was furious and frustrated. Mariah had used his own fears, his own weaknesses against him, and he had been powerless to stop her. There was no way to fight the bitch in her realm. His only hope was to aid her in her quest for a physical form. Only when she walked the earth again would she be vulnerable to his power. And when that time came he would make the controlling slut pay for ever degradation. Ryan would sleep and then he would have to go out and feed, regain his strength. Smiling despite his agony, the demon drifted off to a dreamless rest.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
"No More Yesterdays"
A young, black man moved with fluid certainty through the randomly shifting crowds that caromed through the seedier areas of Downtown L.A.'s red light district.
Thirty years ago, his name was Terence Wilkins and he was innocent and naive. He became Fate.
His eyes never wavered from the path in front of him. Tricked-out vehicles smeared by, displacing air as the low-end speakers fired. Buses roared by in snarls of commercial motive power. Televisions behind mass-produced steel security grilles advertised soon-to-be replaced fads and manufactured luxuries. His face wore a cold, closed look through the intermittent pulses of cheap neon and desperate flesh, past eddying currents of marijuana smoke and diesel exhaust, unmoved by the winos braying on street corners or the con men working the lower strata of illicit commerce. *Hustlers of the world, there is one mark you cannot con: the Mark Inside.*
The last man Fate trusted died in his arms. That was thirty years ago. He never trusted anyone after that.
"Hey, baby - looking for someone special?" she said, words enunciated in a jet of smoke. Fate cast her a glance first at eye-level, quickly down, and then quickly back up again. She looked young and worn-out, the ravages of some horrid addiction clearly delineated in a morse code of tics and twitches that tittered through her as she spoke. Cancelled eyes and limited future tense.
"Always. But you ain't it," he said, not slowing his stride at all. She screeched curses at him, high-pitched at first but dopplering down as Fate increased the distance between them. Eventually her protestations blurred into the hiss of white noise. *Dirty to the core. No good left in her.*
Thirty years ago, Fate's mother and father were killed. Twenty years ago, Fate learned that he could gauge the purity of someone's spirit by looking at them.
Fate crossed the street in the middle of the block, the vector of his travel perpendicular to the all-night church that shone upon the sidewalk with an almost holy radiance suggesting warmth, comfort, faith. Fate seemed to shiver under his lightweight black duster even though the ambient temperature hovered at around eighty degrees Fahrenheit, the surges of traffic periodically pushing it past ninety. He didn't even look back. He resumed the linearity of his progress once he was safely on the opposing sidewalk.
Thirty years ago, Fate found out that expressions of devout faith were dangerous to him. He avoided all such places on principle, regardless of relative devotion.
A crowd of about seventy-five lingered in the outdoor portion of a nightclub, directly in Fate's path. He sniffed the air and looked around as he moved into the crowd, but showed no signs of finding anything worth stopping for. Fate picked up the hustler's presence several seconds before the man fell into step next to him.
"So how you doin' t'night man? Gettin' your drink on? You look like a man knows how to party, dog. What's your name, man?"
Bad jacket, gaudy jewelry. Overly friendly manner. Flammable breath. Fate didn't even have to give him a serious look to know that he didn't like him. *Best case scenario, he's gonna try to roll me. Worst case is he's just an asshole desperately in need of friends. Bad luck either way.* The hustler kept up his ingratiating monologue and his endless barrage of questions. At the mouth of an alley Fate stopped dead in his tracks, a glimmer of recognition playing over his face. *Bingo.*
Thirty-one years ago, Sensei Ishida taught Fate how to kill a man with his bare hands. Thirty years ago, Fate killed his first man with his bare hands.
The man grabbed Fate's left arm at the wrist. Fate tucked the wrist into his midsection, drawing the man close, then brought his right hand up and under the intruding hand, grabbing it at the wrist and pulling downward sharply. Hunched over as the man was, the left elbow Fate brought down on the base of the man's neck knocked him out instantly, dead weight slumping to the cracked concrete. Fate ignored him completely.
Four hours ago, Fate got up from his meditations and performed with precision each of the twenty-four open-hand katas he had been practicing for the last twenty-five years.
Purpose burned in his eyes as he stared down the dark alley. He began his descent into the shadows.
Thirty years ago, Fate learned that he could sense the presence of vampires by the elevation in their energy signatures. Within two years, he could sense them at a distance of a city block.
As he reached the end of the alley, Fate saw three beings that were obviously vampires preparing to devour one man who was obviously mortal. His eyes lit up. *Start as you mean to continue.*
"Come now," Fate shouted in a caricatured Jamaican accent. "I an'I been looking high and low for you three, seen?"
Thirty years ago, Fate learned that he possessed superhuman strength, endurance, the ability to rapidly regenerate physical damage, and that he was capable of moving - for short periods of time - at speeds nearly undetectable by the human eye. Shortly after that, Fate feared nothing at all.
All eight eyes turned to the slightly-built black man at the mouth of the alley. A sinister, feral smile burned through Fate's face like a million-candlepower spotlight as he held his hands up, palms facing his face, and spread his fingers. "I an' I be Steppin' Razor, an I be followin' you, seen," he said, dragging out the sibilants and keeping his voice at such a low octave that his vocal cords barely vibrated.
The vampire closest to Fate, standing no more than fifteen feet away, made his move first, rushing straight in. Fate stood utterly still for a brief moment, smiling his hangman's smile, fingers still fanned out. Then he moved.
In a blur, Fate moved ten feet and delivered a ridge-hand strike with his left at the base of the vampire's neck as his right elbow connected with the vampire's forehead. The vampire had no time to adjust, and his neck snapped cleanly, head lolling at a sickening angle. Fate grabbed him by the neck...
Thirty years ago, Fate learned that he could drain the life essence out of a sentient body simply by making prolonged flesh-to-flesh contact.
The vampire's body disintegrated in a crackling storm of blue energy that swirled around Fate's hand, through his arm and into his torso. Nothing but dust remained, the animating spirit of the monster completely absorbed into Fate's body as Fate kept on smiling. "I an' I ain't done yet, seen," as he made a 'come-hither' gesture to the remaining two vampires with a single index finger. He enjoyed the fear he saw in their eyes as they expired...
Thirty years ago, Fate desired revenge and got it.
Fate glowed faintly with a blue light, an odd contrast to the look of genuine happiness on his face.
Thirty years ago, Fate learned that the absorption of energy could make him happy.
Seemingly lost in a reverie, Fate turned to see what became of the mortal only to be shocked by the unpleasant insinuation of a piece of lumber into his chest cavity. He turned his head skyward and let out an inhuman howl, eyes closed in a paroxysm of pain.
Thirty years ago, Fate learned that he was immortal, and that only five things could destroy him: incineration, decapitation, exposure to either a holy object wielded by one of true faith or the rays of the sun, and complete exhaustion of his spiritual energy. Staking, he learned, did next to nothing.
The blue glow surrounding Fate died away slowly as the piece of lumber slowly extruded its way out of his chest. When it was completely out, he caught it deftly without looking. He opened his eyes, looked at the terrified mortal, and began laughing uncontrollably for a full thirty seconds before regaining his composure.
"Sorry, man - I was just playin.' You actually thought you was gonna stake me, didn't you?" and all the mortal could do was shiver in abject terror. Wielding the scrap of wood like a teacher's pointer, Fate adopted a stern, authoritarian tone of voice as he continued, "Two things about what you just did bug the everloving shit out of me. One: even though I have at no time displayed fangs or tried to bite you, you automatically assumed I was a vampire, and, two: you just tried to kill the obviously-not-a-vampire-but-awfully-damned-benevolent-whatever-he-is that saved your stupid ass from imminent demise. I ought to kill you on general goddamned principles, you know that? Get the hell out of here!"
Fate saw a flurry of shoe-heels and then nothing. He laughed again, tossed the stick to the ground, and found himself once again able to just flow...
Thirty years ago, Terence Wilkins found his family dead and sought refuge at the home of his Sensei, Grandmaster Hiroki Ishida. Ishida offered Terence a way to seek revenge on the men responsible for the deaths of his family members, and Terence, hungry for vengeance, needed to know more.
Ishida explained the ritual to him, and the powers that he, Terence, would gain upon completion of the ritual: superhumanly strength, endurance, and agility; he would be able to regenerate physical damage simply by moving his ch'i to the area of the wound; he would gain a supersensory awareness of his surroundings; and he would be able to channel his energy into bursts of phenomenal speed. He would be able to kill with the slightest touch, and could only be harmed by sunlight, devout faith, decapitation, and incineration. Terence, his rage blinding him to the repercussions of his decision, agreed unconditionally.
The two men knelt facing one other on separate straw mats. Ishida put his hands on Terence's temples, and uttered a short incantation in a language Terence had never heard before.
A rush of feelings and emotions blasted through Terence's psyche. He felt something being torn from his spirit and replaced by something ancient and hideous. He fainted from the shock and horror, only to reawaken minutes later to the unbridled laughter of Sensei Ishida echoing in his head. He opened his eyes to see Ishida standing before him, mocking him in his moment of weakness.
"How does it feel to know that you are now Senyata-Oni, The Demon of Emptiness, Terence?" Ishida asked sarcastically and continued, "How does it feel to know that you will never sleep again; that you will never find peace from your hunger in a moment of unconsciousness; that from now until the end of time you will stalk the earth always on the lookout for prey to consume? Yes, you have tremendous power, but only if you keep the beast fed. Do you feel the hunger burning within you, even now? That hunger will drive you until you find another innocent soul with the willpower and desire to accept the beast unconditionally, as you did. I murdered your parents myself in order to draw you to me, Terence, naive, trusting little fool. I have your purity, and you have my demon. My spirit may die in peace, free from Senyata-Oni. Hahahahahah," and his words were cut off by Terence's first experience with feeding...
Thirty years ago, Terence Wilkins last knew unconsciousness, and in that unconsciousness the man who was Terence Wilkins died. He awoke as Fate Wilkins, Senyata Oni, and the only man who could tell him what exactly that meant was dead at his feet.
Eight hours ago, Fate Wilkins came to L.A.
With nowhere to turn, and no more yesterdays, he let the hunger lead him there...
Mother and Daye meet again
*** Saturday, September 10, 2005 2:20 AM ***
Daye sat at the desk in the tiny office at the rear of the newly refurbished Bibliophile, diligently entering figures in the computer before her. The shop had been open for almost a week and things were just starting to settle into a rhythm. Along with Kate, Daye had hired on four full time servers for the restaurant, three full time counter people for the shop, an assistant for Josh, and six part time people to float between positions. Today, with everyone finally on the schedule, the whole day had finally gone smoothly and Daye had had the time to spend most of the day on paperwork in the office. With the funds from the Council, and the money Victor had provided, they would be able to more than break even for the first week, and if business continued unabated Bibliophile would be turning a profit before the end of the week.
Daye had already decided she was going to delegate some of the ordering and other paperwork to Jess and Kate. Although she hadn’t discussed it with them, Daye wanted to make them both Assistant Managers, and that would free up some of her time. Something she really wanted to do, since she’d once again only seen Drew for a few hours a couple of times during the week. Managing the shop was detrimental to her love life.
Daye pushed back from the desk and tipped her chair back. She put her hands over her eyes and gently massaged her temples. The headache pounding behind her closed lids was most definitely from the four hours she’d spent in front of the computer without a break. Or the fact that she’d had less than five hours sleep the night before. Or just possibly because she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. If Josh hadn’t headed home as soon as he’d closed up this evening, he would have been all over her for skipping dinner (and lunch). Daye could almost hear him.
“Miss Blaise, you got to take better care of yourself,” he would say, probably carrying a big bowl of his gumbo and a thick slice of fresh baked bread. “You lookin’ all worn down. Now, eat this up and don’ be leaving a bite behind.”
Daye laughed ruefully, dropping her head onto her folded arms on the cluttered desk. She was so tired that she was getting an imaginary lecture from a man who’d gone home almost three hours earlier. She didn’t bother to glance up, but she knew the clock would read almost half past two in the morning.
“I’m so tired,” Daye mumbled into the desktop. She let her eyes flutter closed, just for a moment.
*****
Daye sat on the shore, with the waves pounding against the sand. Her eyes were closed and her face was turned up to the warm rays of the early afternoon sun. A soft, cool breeze blew her hair around, and Daye could hear the sound of the dolphins frolicking in the tall grass nearby. She felt safe and comfortable and loved, oh so loved.
“My daughter, sister, beloved,” a faint, childish voice spoke in Daye’s ear, but she did not open her eyes. She felt too relaxed, her body too deeply languid to respond. Daye made a small humming noise in the back of her throat.
“I am so glad you came,” the voice said.
“Mother?” Daye felt wonder and surety. This was the mother of her spirit. A divine parent come to soothe and guide her.
“Yes, yes,” Mother’s voice was kind and pure. “It has been too long since we talked, shared. Not since your brother was with us have we communed. Too long, lovely Amanda.”
“Too long,” Daye murmured in agreement. “But what has happened to my brother, Mother?”
“Oh, dear child,” Mother’s voice was full of grief and loss, “Sam is no longer with us. He has gone on.”
Daye felt a deep, aching loss at Mother’s words. She had only known her brother briefly, but he had been so dear, so special. Eyes still closed, tears began to slowly roll down her face. Tears for what was, and more so, for what might have been.
“Do not despair, for I am still with you,” Mother said. “It shall always be so. Never fear, my beloved. Soon you will come to me, turn back to your heart and you will find the way.”
Mother’s words seemed so clear. When she spoke of the heart, Daye saw in her mind not Drew, but Ryan in his demon skin, standing proud and benevolent before her. Daye longed, suddenly, to see her lover, to speak to him, to reconnect to the love of her past. As Daye sat, focused on Ryan, the shore, the water, the voice of the Mother slowly faded, until everything narrowed down to only the man she had loved, the man she did love, the man she would always love.
*****
Daye sat up suddenly at her desk. She was shocked to see she had fallen asleep for over an hour. It seemed sometimes as if every time she closed her eyes, time flew by and she felt no more rested. Sighing, Daye shut down the computer and gathered her things together. She would have to be in early in the morning even though Mrs. Wyldling was opening, so she would only get about four hours sleep again. Hopefully, though, they would be four far more fulfilling hours than the hour she’d napped had been.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
September 5, 2005, 6:00 pm: Inside the Beazor
Entering the Beazor was the rough equivalent of stepping into a new world for Tyler Hyatt. In the past year he’d seen his share of demons, of mayhem and destruction, and all the things the worse of them bring. But stepping into the Beazor he was surrounded by the worst of the worst, in every shape, form and size. Mel had been right. It was a descent into hell.
But Tyler kept his head, as always, and stepped further into the complex, searching. He kept to the shadows behind the crowds, in a move designed to keep him from being noticed, or at least perceived as a threat. This was the way he made it past the initial swarms that crowded around the fencing, looking on as two Fyarls tore each other to pieces.
The whole time he stood behind them, the churning in Tyler’s gut never eased. Not even when the fight ended and the murmurs and currency started getting passed. Worse then, in fact, but it passed. It always did.
So Tyler kept moving till he passed the pit of gamblers and came to a place that was less violent (By relative measurements. The calmest part of the Beazor still looked like World War III.). It was a bar, of sorts, with a large window down onto the arena, in which those who cared were watching a poor, hapless human step in against some form of demon Tyler didn’t know. He just could see it was five times the man’s size, with horns, and various other attachments that no one wants to discuss.
With that sentiment in mind Tyler took a seat on the far end of the bar and waited, sizing up the room. And as he did that the bartender came over.
“You, you gotta be either the dumbest man alive, or you got some kinda death wish.” The bartender was tall and thick like oak, a mountain of a man. He would have to be, given the local. He dressed himself in a white t-shirt which had seen more than its share of spills on this night. His face was round and bore the look of someone who’d seen the ugliest of uglies.
Again not a surprise. The surprise was that he looked at Hyatt with utter contempt, despite the fact that they were the only humans in the room.
“What makes you say that?” Tyler didn’t bother hiding the sarcasm. This excursion was moving far too slowly. “None of these things have any reason to hurt me, except for food. And even I can tell there’s more malleable prey in the vicinity. Aside from that, I’m not about to give them a reason.”
“Good to hear. Blood’s a bitch to clean. You wanna drink then?” Token small talk finished, both men got to business.
“No.” Tyler scrolled through what little information he’d gotten from Mel for the name. “I want to see Mr. Nesmith. I don’t have an appointment.” Tyler finished the last statement just as the bartender opened his mouth to ask.
“No appointment, you can’t see him.” The bartender slapped his hands down on the bar. Hyatt simply reached into his pocket, withdrew a hundred, one of the twenty he carried, and slapped it down next to the bartender’s right hand.
“Then go see what you can do about that. I’ll double it if you get me in.” Hyatt turned his head to the pit and the bartender took the bill.
“Gonna need sumtin' to tell him ‘bout why you’re here.” The man waited for an answer.
“Tell him I have a business proposition. That ought to do it.”
“Gonna need more.”
“No, you won’t.” Tyler turned his attention to the pit, and waited, while the bartender wandered off to do what he had been paid to.
LAX, 6:30 pm
Denny Elbourn stood just beyond baggage claim, swaying left and right, waiting patiently. To the world around him he looked like a man awaiting the arrival of a face he hadn’t seen in a long time. You’d never be able to tell that he only knew the two men he’d be meeting from their photograph.
But there he stood in a pricey, tailored blue suit and long black coat; doing everything he could to look anxious. But that changed when he spotted his arrivals and strode off to meet them.
Harrison and Scott saw him coming from his first step and moved in his direction. Their paths intersected and two words were exchanged.
“Ozzie.” Elbourn was careful, speaking quietly.
“And the hellbitch.” Harrison was louder, very much so.
“Just have to say it loud don’t you? Elbourn would have been scolding, but he didn’t care. “This way, gentlemen.”
The trio turned and strolled out of the terminal.
The Beazor, 6:35 pm
After a brief, terse conversation with a vampire, the bartender returned to Tyler and held out a palm.
“The bloodsucker there’ll take ya ta da boss.” Hyatt, in response, dropped the last of the money owed into the man’s hand and followed the vamp to a door, leading to the tunnels behind the business face of the Beazor. As he made his way through those tunnels, Hyatt couldn’t help but hear his own voice repeating, over and over:
“Ryan has been here. He was here, and something was wrong.” And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how loudly Tyler reminded himself that in this place weakness was unforgiving, he couldn’t quell that voice.
The father in him.
Tyler’s memories
Tyler had barely finished the job of sitting down at the desk in the cramped cube which the Balance provided him when his life was interrupted again, by an all too familiar voice.
“You can piss off too, Gramps.” Ryan Michaels was behind him. Tyler knew it, but didn’t bother to turn.
“You done yet?” Tyler didn’t seem affected.
“Done what?
“Acting like an asshole.” Ryan opened his mouth, but Tyler spoke first, “Get this straight kid. You’re just like every other puffed up little fart who gets grabbed up. You don’t know anything and you think you’re hot shit. And, most likely, you’ll be dead in three weeks.”
Ryan started to speak again, and again Hyatt interrupted, “I’ve been in the company five years. That makes me the oldest guy here. And I’ve got no use for grandstanders and morons.” Hyatt let tone of voice carry the message home. “You got your gear? Weapons?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s go then.” Tyler stood and walked out of his cube, toward an elevator. He glanced back to see Ryan pulling up beside him, matching his stride.
“Where, exactly?” Ryan sounded cocky, arrogant. And that made Tyler smirk.
“To give you the crash course.”
Beazor
The vamp led Tyler up a set of stairs, the kind that run in a simple, straight line. They paused at the top, while the vamp knocked.
“Wait here.”
The vamp opened the door, disappearing behind it before Tyler could say a word. And Tyler, upon hearing the door close, rested his head against the wall, and shut his eyes.
Memory
The crash course of life in the Balance meant you were sent into a crypt inhabited by no less than four vamps. A new recruit and one older were sent there and thrown into the fire, as the cliché goes. Without fail, the elder agent returned. Often, the newbie did not.
That was life, such as it was.
That was the life Ryan Michaels was harshly introduced to, as a vampire sent him flying into a sturdy piece of concrete. He hit, back first, and fell to the floor. But he didn’t even get the time to writhe in pain as the demon was on him again. In full vamp face, the demon picked Ryan up and landed a hard right cross. But when he moved in to bite, Ryan lifted his knee into the vamp’s crotch, following up with a right hand of his own.
Ryan then leapt and nailed a jumping back spin kick, allowing him to see Hyatt off in the corner, staking one of the other two vamps. As the other charged him from behind, Hyatt tossed the stake to Ryan, and jabbed an elbow into the vamp’s neck.
Ryan for his part caught the stake and dusted the vamp, just in time to see Hyatt shoot two knives out of his coat and pop off the last vampire’s head.
“What the hell was that?” Ryan was absolutely livid as he dusted himself off.
“What do you mean?” In contrast, Hyatt was sickeningly calm. In the fight, he’d barely broken a sweat.
“That, what was that?”
Hyatt smirked, “That, kid, was the easiest day you’re going to have for as long as you’re working here.”
“Easy?” Ryan’s anger only grew with Hyatt’s words. “You call that easy?”
“Kid,” Hyatt’s tone changed now, to irritated, “In the past five years, I’ve seen some very scary stuff. I’ve killed things that would scare you so much you couldn’t have a nightmare about them. So yeah, this was easy.”
“Maybe for you,” Ryan’s anger kept growing, “But I’ve never done this before. I needed help. That... thing nearly killed me.”
“But it didn’t.”
“It could have.”
“It didn’t.” Tyler put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Son, the way this job works, if something happens and we’re dealing with something really heavy, I can’t spend all my time trying to save you. That’d get us both killed, or worse. The whole point of this was so I could find out if you can take care of yourself. Now I know you can.”
Oddly, that soothed Ryan’s ruffles. “Now come on. We’ve gotta get back to the office.”
The Beazor
Hyatt was sharply jolted from his reverie by the sound of the door opening. He stood up straight immediately and heard his escort’s voice.
“The boss’ll see you now.” The vampire stepped aside, making way for Hyatt to enter the office. And Hyatt did precisely that, slowly, so he could take measure of “the boss.”
As Hyatt entered, Paul was doing the same thing. In front of him, he saw perhaps the least imposing figure he had ever seen. This Tyler Hyatt was not in the least bit intimidating. In fact, he looked like some wayward businessman in his black slacks, dark blue button down shirt, and brown jacket. This man might have wandered off from some staff meeting to finish the tasks on his action item list.
But when Paul looked again and saw Hyatt’s eyes, he knew what he was dealing with. This man would be trouble, if he was pushed.
But Paul was unaware Hyatt had that same thought about him.
“Please, have a seat Mr. Hyatt.” Paul gestured to a chair just in front of his desk. And Hyatt obliged.
“What can I do for you?”
“I have a proposition for you, Mr. Nesmith.” Hyatt leaned forward in his chair.
“A proposition? What could you possibly have to offer me?” Paul smirked.
Hyatt leaned back in his chair, playing the game. “You’ve got a gun under your desk, haven’t you?” Paul didn’t respond. “Most likely a Glock. That’s the most common brand for your kind. You’ve probably got it in a holster, butt to the left in the middle of your desk, so you can grab and shoot in a smooth motion. Care to guess where mine is?”
“You got a gun past my security?”
“Wasn’t hard. Didn’t you pick it out when I walked in?”
Paul took another measure of his quarry. “What’s your proposition?”
“I do one job for you, anything you need. It doesn’t matter what. And in return, you tell me everything you know about the man I’m looking for.” Hyatt leaned forward again. This was business now.
“So, in essence, I get something I need done done, and in return I answer a few questions?”
“Exactly.”
“And you’d want those answers first?” Paul’s mind was making itself up now, Hyatt knew it. So he added a clincher.
“I’m more than willing to do the job first.”
“Then we have a deal, Mr. Hyatt.” Paul stood up, and moved to a filing drawer. Hyatt’s eyes never left him.
“What do you want me to do?”
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
***Wednesday 7th September, 2005…20:34***
“Oh no,” Tarix cried. And in front of her eyes unfolded a series of events that made her eyes go round in horror. It was horrible. Every moment was agonizing and torturous. *Lord give me strength for I am going to kill them!*
She closed her eyes, feeling very scared and opened them again hoping she was having a nightmare. She wasn’t.
In front of her was a toddler in a high chair throwing handfuls of his fries on the floor, while his other brother and sister - the brats - were spitting milkshakes at Tarix through their straws. She tried to calm them down while at the same time trying to clean the mess on the floor but it was no use, the more she tried to clean up the more the brats would chuck down at her.
She stood up and tried to get the attention of their mother who was on the same table talking to her husband, totally ignoring her children. *Children? They give a new meaning to the term Hell’s Spawn!*
“Excuse me, Ma'am? Um, your children are littering?” The woman continued to ignore her, gossiping with her husband. She was a fat woman, seemed to be in her thirties, wearing a flowery dress and waving her hands about as she talked. Her husband was a thin man, probably in his early thirties but looked as if he was aging every second. He had a bored expression on his face but was nodding to what his wife was saying.
Tarix tried again, this time more loudly as yet another wave of milkshake hit her. “Uh Ma'am! Is it possible that you can control your kids?” She also tapped at the woman’s enormous arm.
This got her attention. “Well, can’t decent people talk in 'ere without getting interrupted? Manners these days! Hmphf.” Her beady eyes rolled as she talked.
“Well, if your kids could just behave a little and play nicely it would be really helpful.” Thiswas followed by one of the kids sticking his tongue at her.
“WHAT! Are you calling my kids uncivilised? Are you trying to call me a BAD mother?”
*I am trying but you ain’t letting me get a word in.* “No, I was just... never mind... enjoy your meal,” and with that Tarix knew she had had enough. She turned on her heels and left towards the kitchen almost tripping on the way there.
It was good that she left, even though the woman had started to blare at the top of her lungs, because she could just feel the anger start to built up inside her. And that was never pretty. She headed inside the employee restroom and started to clean up.
Reah gazed blankly up at the sign she was approaching. *Laughing Dog.* She gave a short, clipped, detached laugh to express her feelings toward these sorts of franchises. They were all the same. They were all hell. Hells that she made certain to avoid. You found the worse type of decaying organic matter here...
...you found hungry human children.
Regular children Reah didn’t mind so much. Truth of the matter was that she loved the rascals! But these ones were obnoxious. Spoilt and obnoxious.
Reah swore that if she ever had children, she’d make sure they weren’t obnoxious… or bimboes… or himboes if it came to it! She’d kill them before letting a thing like that happen.
Unconsciously, Reah spared a glance through the window as she passed nonchalantly by the restaurant. *Right there! Perfect example of obnoxiousness at its best.* Reah sneered at the snot nosed kids and their fat mother torturing some poor employee.
She would have kept walking by as well and just held to herself had not the features of the poor girl in the degrading ‘Laughing Dog’ cap jumped out at Reah as she recognised her as being that of the girl from the night before! *Jessy?*
Reah shoved through the happy smiling doors of the establishment just as the girl had given up and gone around the back.
Reah paused, frowning at her surroundings, then pushed on ignoring the blaring red and yellow colours clashing with one another (for some reason it reminded her of tomato sauce on eggs. Something well worth shuddering over). Slamming one of the kid's faces into their burgers in front of them as she passed by, the scuffing of a strained chair immediately followed as the fat mother’s incredible hulkness was wakened. She came at Reah and would have body slammed her had she not stepped to the side.
“What’s your problem missy? You punk kids dressed in black think you’re impressin’ someone! Own the world!” Children’s wailing orchestrated an interesting tune. “We come ere’, try to have a civilised meal, get ACCUSED of being the uncivilised ones when people like you just come marching up straight off the street…” Fat woman’s wailing also composed an interesting tune. Neither ceased. Both began to grow old. *Doesn’t this woman ever shut up? …how long has THAT been there?* Reah eyed a piece of lettuce stuck in the woman’s teeth for no particular reason, it just suddenly seemed to stand out and held more interest.
“Look, shut up!” The woman stared bewildered at Reah’s sudden interruption! “I believe you have enough fat hanging off you to provide your spawn with an unhealthy diet to last them a lifetime without needing to bring them here.” She nodded to punctuate the end of the conversation before the woman could get a word in edgewise and turned about to the manager behind the counter. “You!”
“Can I help you miss?” The man had a look of stunned amusement on his face. Obviously that family was… were regulars.
Reah approached the counter slowly. “Can you get that girl who just went out the back for me? I’m a… friend.” She figured ‘prowler’ wouldn’t go down as well. “I’ll be over there.”
Tarix came out, having changed into something without the brown chocolate stains. She looked towards the “brat” table and saw the manager was there calming them down and trying to give them some coupons. Tarix rolled her eyes, *What have I done to deserve this.* She was sure she was going to take the argument up again with Thule in the morning.
She grabbed a towel from the counter and started cleaning with it.
“Tarix?” It was Josh, one of the other employees in the fast food joint, poor fellow. “I was going on my break, is it ok if you take over the counter?”
Tarix smiled. “It's better then doing this, sure,” she replied and made her way to the register. There were a few customers waiting in line so she started taking orders.
She looked again towards the fat lady she had encountered before and saw that she was leaving. She also saw her manager come up towards her. *Great! If he shouts at me then I’m quitting, I don’t care what Thule says.* She braced herself for the worst to come and built up her willpower to endure it. To her surprise he didn’t mention anything about the family but just said that there was a “friend” of hers who was asking and muttered something about meeting during her breaks.
Curiosity got the better of Tarix. *I wonder who that could be - Thule? Naw wait, it's supposed to be a female, unless Thule has a knack of changing genders.*
She asked where this person was and he pointed towards a table near the entrance. Tarix looked towards it and saw a young woman, probably in her twenties dressed in black. *I wonder who that could be.* And suddenly she knew.
It was a relative of hers that knew her before she lost her memory. Maybe this person saw her in here and came to ask of her health. Tarix’s happiness started to swell up as she thought that this person could be the link to her past. She was finally going to discover who she was! Even though she could have done that before by Thule but it seemed he was very reluctant to give her any information about her at all. His excuse always was, “Let the memory come back to you by itself, it's better that way.” And that would be all she could get out of him.
She made her ways towards this stranger, whom she hoped wasn’t one, with her heart beating mercilessly in her throat. The girl was looking out the window but seemed to realise that Tarix had come.
“Umm..hey!” Tarix said, waving her right hand, “You wanted to see me?”
Reah raised an eyebrow in speculation at the girl’s apparent nervousness. Not what she’d expected considering what she’d seen of the girl the other night.
Reah’s eyes washed over the tacky uniform with a mixture of sympathy and disgust twisting her stomach.
*I really hate these places!*
Her gaze hesitated a moment on the contradicting name tag. Much different to what Reah was expecting… or should it be? Suspicion roused higher, *This chick is so not human!*
“Yes I did actually. Why wouldn’t I?” Shrugging she continued, “Tarix, eh! What happened to Jessy?” *Give her a smile. Sigh! I guess that’ll do.*
Tarix looked at her and forced a smile on her face through all her nervousness. Jessy - was that her old name? She tried to clear her mind up and try her best to see whether the name sounded familiar to her. It sounded familiar, like she’d heard it on TV or heard someone say it, but it didn’t feel like hers.
“Jessy?” she murmured. “I am sorry, I, I, don’t know,” she stammered. *Hey, take it easy….* Tarix took her cap off and ran her hand through her hair. “You see I don’t know who you are, or I don’t remember.”
She licked her lips and looked at this woman. She didn’t seem the slightest bit familiar at all. She put her cap back on and cleared her throat. Before the woman could reply, Tarix added, “But I have lost my memory,” she decided to babble further, “and if you know anything about me I would really welcome it.” She realised she was holding her breath waiting for this “stranger” to answer.
Bemused, Reah sat still on the edge of her seat while she making a study of the… ‘girl’, lacking a better description. Possibly a shape shifter from what Reah already knew. Or was she another doppelganger? *I thought Buns took care of that though… for a while at least. And I thought doppelgangers killed their originals!…unless this one thinks I‘m particularly stupid.* She frowned.
Why she was even bothering to follow this chick up had her dazed! She had another job to focus on, and until that was done she should be focusing on nothing else.
*Bugger it. Everyone needs a hobby!*
“Sooo…you’ve got amnesia?”
The ‘girl’ nodded minutely, watching Reah intently and scuffing her foot nervously into the floor.
“Sometime between last night and right now?” Reah interrogated with disbelief.
Tarix stiffened. “Excuse me?” She felt her hope begin to die away. *Maybe this person was mistaking her with someone else.* “No, no, I’ve got amnesia since about more then two years. Don’t you know me from before that?”
Maybe this person was just trying to pull her leg, or was she? Tarix felt really confused. She looked at her and saw a look of disbelief on her face.
*It seems she doesn't believe me either.*
“Two years?” Reah shook her head trying to make some sort of sense out all this. *She better be someone entirely different! 'Cos if she thinks I‘m stupid enough to believe this…!* “My names Reah,” she eyed Tarix carefully, “you seriously don’t know me?”
"Um, I'm Tarix." She then looked down at her name tag, "But of course you already saw that too. So, tell me, how again do you know me?"
Reah scratched an unidentifiable itch on her elbow. “Last night! We…” she hesitated and glanced around the restaurant. There were some people watching them, most likely because of the performances each of them had put on earlier, “…engaged in some cleaning up of certain things.”
She watched closely for a spark of recognition. Nothing. “It was definitely you. I wouldn’t forget something like that.” Still nothing. "Come on!"
“Look, Reah, I honestly don’t know you. Maybe you were mistaken. Besides, last night I was here from 5pm to 9pm. You can ask any one of the others that work here.” Tarix didn’t know what to think. *She looks sane to me.*
She waited a little bit longer to see whether Reah would say something. When Reah just stood there eyeing her suspiciously, she said, “Well, I’ve got to be going. I have a job to be done. Grease to be conquered.” She nodded. “Well, see yah, do eat here if you like, but I won’t guarantee the tastiness of the food though.”
Reah’s hand quickly shot up in front of her waving the girl to slow down and relax, although she herself was finding the whole situation a little overwhelming and confusing. “Look! Sorry. I’m just a little confused is all. This whole thing is a little… well I guess I can’t really call it THAT unusual considering what I usually put up with.” She turned back to look at Tarix, Jessy, ‘girl’, whatever they were, squarely in the eyes. “Trust me when I say, though, that I wouldn’t eat this food if my life depended on it,” she said, smiling.
Tarix started to relax slightly. *Maybe I've been working too hard... no that couldn't be it!* Tarix looked at Reah suspiously. She forced a smile on her face and let out a little giggle. "Yeah, I know what you mean." She didn't know what more to say.
"Look, this here is a weird little town. I don't know who you saw that night, but trust me on this that it wasn't me." Tarix sighed, "Look at it this way, if it was me, why would I lie to you?"
Reah shrugged, “Why would you tell me the truth?” She grinned ruefully, “I know some people who’d like to pretend they were someone other than themselves.”
Recovering a more friendly appearance once again, this was just going to be another one of those cases she’d classify as weird! “I think I trust you - at least as much as I can afford to. And trust me on this, that’s saying a lot!” *So this is an entirely different person to that chick from last night. Do they have anything else about each other in common other than their looks?*
She held out her hand. “Let's do this properly.” Breath, “Hi, I’m Reah!”
This time the smile was for real. She shook Reah's hand. "Tarix, just Tarix, and I am afraid I know no Jessy. Sorry."
Tarix glanced towards the back door and saw Jonny standing there, his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh my, looks like I stuck around here too long." She looked back at Reah, "Well it was nice to meet ya, but I really must be going. Drop in again sometime then."
"Um, perhaps not here so much! But some other place," Reah nodded with a tight smile. *I'm socialising! Socialising is what I am doing... oh-kaaay!* She took a deep breath and just concentrated on being human.
"Well, it was nice to meet you... the other you. Maybe she's your long lost twin or something that your amnesia helped you forget." Reah smirked at her attempt to make a light hearted joke.
*Long lost twin.* Something about that phrase made Tarix feel uncomfortable and a shiver crawled up her spine. She shook it off. "Umm yeah, hehe, maybe... um bye." Tarix waved her goodbye.
“Yeah, bye.” Reah added absently to the girl’s long retreating back as she herself exited without even a backward glance. Perhaps she'd jumped into the whole social regime a little too quick; people seemed even more difficult than they used to be.
*Man, I miss Cronk!* She chuckled softly as the memories of her long-gone friend and his curiosity towards the idea of ‘friendship’. The troll was a good friend, despite his lack of knowledge on the concept.
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Thursday 8th September, 2005, 4:15am
There isn’t anything as beautiful as the time the first light appears in the sky at dawn. Before that there is the harsh reality of darkness, threatening and dangerous, holding untold terrors. Then in a matter of just mere minutes a touch of bright light announces its presence and soon the entire sky is lighted with its brilliance. Like a warrior in the sky, it sends all the shadows, all its enemies, into the corners where they shall remain.
Tarix was on her terrace, also known as a balcony. She was wearing a thin gown over her loose fitting PJ’s, enjoying the brisk morning air. She had gotten up there when there was nothing but darkness but she stayed there until the warm yellow light had totally engulfed her. She sighed as she looked down below as everybody started to go on with their lives. Reluctantly she went back into her apartment, closing the large window that was separating her living area from her terrace.
She went into the kitchen and prepared her breakfast, which consisted of coffee and a slice of buttered toast. While eating her breakfast she thought again about the conversation she had had with that girl that had come by Laughing Dogs. She was sure to ask Thule about it this morning when he came around.
That reminded her about Thule’s visit. It was decided that as Tarix had a big enough apartment then some of the space would be used for Tarix’s physical training. Tarix looked at the watch and found out that there was only fifteen minutes till Thule came. She quickly wolfed down her breakfast and went to change her clothes. She came back changed into jeans and a loose shirt, with her hair tied in a bun.
As Thule hadn’t come yet, she decided she’d try to do some yoga. This she had learned from her new TV. She started off with some stretches, stretching her arms outwards then bringing them upwards. Slowly she started to separate her legs and crouch down. She slowly came back into her previous position and repeated the exercise. After she was done with that she got down to her knees and started a whole new set of exercises.
Tarix closed her eyes and let her mind concentrate on what she was doing. She started balancing on one knee, lifting her other leg in the air, her eyes still closed.
“Very nice, but a little too calm for me.”
Tarix’s eyes snapped open, and she lost her balance and fell with a big thump. “Ow,” she yelped.
She turned around and realised that Thule was standing in the doorway, holding many bags in his hands.
“Thule!” She was about to ask how he had gotten in, as she knew she had locked the door this time, but remembered that because of what had happened previously that she had given him an extra key.
“Can you warn me before you surprise me again, please?” she said, getting up from her position down on the ground.
“I shouldn’t have to warn you. You should concentrate so that you can feel your surroundings. You should have known I was here before I reached the door,” Thule said, not moving from his position.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever Yoda. Easy for you to say.”
“Yes well.” Thule looked down at the bags he was holding, “If you have stopped complaining I would like some help.”
“Oh, sorry,” Tarix said, as she rushed to get the bags from Thule. “Where do you want me to put these - by the way, what are these?” Tarix said, curiosity taking over.
“It’s your home, put them where you plan to train.”
On his words, Tarix just dropped them where she was standing.
Thule started. “Yes, there would be fine. Do be careful, will you? I’ve got more boxes and bags in my car. Come on.” Thule walked out.
Tarix sighed and walked after him.
After a quarter of an hour of work, nine heavy boxes and five equally heavy bags had been carried up into her apartment. After Tarix got her breath back she asked Thule what all this was.
“It’s for your physical training. I have brought all the equipment you will need, from boxing gloves to a boxing bag, some weights, pads and other equipment. You can see for yourself.”
As both of them started to unpack the bags Thule’s words held true. He had also brought a toolbox so that the equipment could hang on the walls. It took less than one hour of hard work and soon Tarix’s entire living room had become like a small gym. In one corner there was hung a big boxing bag, in another a few small weights were arranged. And between them sprawled on the floor and stuck on the walls were pads.
“What are the pads for?” Tarix asked once they had finished.
“It’s for safety. So that we can practice some martial arts or other exercises and in case you fall on the floor like a ton of bricks like you did this morning, you wouldn’t get hurt.” Thule went towards the kitchen to make some tea for himself.
“Oh, ok.” Tarix looked around and found out that all the boxes had remained untouched. They too were heavy, and she wondered what they could contain.
“Those contain books,” Thule said, as if reading Tarix’s mind.
*I thought I was the one supposed to read minds,* Tarix thought. Aloud she joked, “Why books, are we going to throw them at each other?”
“No, of course not,” said Thule, obviously not getting the joke. “They are for your mental training. As you have another room that remains empty, we can convert that into a study. I have all the books here. These will ensure that you are able to equip yourself with the knowledge of the real world.”
Tarix opened one of the boxes and took out a book bound in leather: “‘Monsters: Mythological and Real’. I am going to read this?”
“Yes, should be good for bed time reading. Now why don’t you put all the boxes in the room and we can unpack them later.”
“Fine, whatever you say,” Tarix said, throwing the book back in the box and carrying the box towards the empty room.
When she was done she found Thule sitting on the couch sipping tea. This gave her the moment she had been looking for.
“Thule? I wanted to ask something.” When she found that Thule’s entire attention was hers she continued. “Something weird happened last night. I was working as usual at the Barfing Dogs,” Thule rolled his eyes at Tarix’s attempt at ruining the name, “and this one person came to me, a complete stranger, and said that she had seen me before.”
This got Thule to deep thinking. “You mean this person knew you before your ‘condition’?”
“No, that’s the puzzle, this person said she met me, or a person that looked exactly like me. A few nights ago. Thule, that’s impossible, I was there at the Dogs all the time.”
Thule seemed to observe Tarix. If something about this alarmed him he did not show it. Thule wondered whether Tarix was ready, and decided that he had to tell her.
“Tarix, this other person, this look alike of yours. That person is real. And this stranger, that saw her, was probably not lying."
Tarix stared at Thule. “You mean you know my look alike?”
“Well, sort of yes. Tarix, she’s your family. She is your twin sister.”
Mid-Season Two: Jan 20, 2006 - June 16(ish), 2006
Same day, 7:30am
“I have a sister? Like a real sister? A family member?” Tarix started pacing around. She didn’t know whether to feel excited or to feel angry with Thule. She decided to try both emotions, as she whipped around facing Thule.
“You LIED to me. All this time I was looking for somebody I knew from my past. You come along and I am all happy, hey I knew somebody, maybe this somebody would come around, tell me about myself.” She started pacing around again.
“But noooo, this somebody was Mr. I-will-keep-everything-a-mystery-to-piss-her-off. What is your problem Thule? Couldn’t you just come out, sit me down and tell me everything about myself, so that I don’t feel this lost? Damn you, you didn’t even tell me my real name!” During all this Thule just stood motionless, listening to her.
When he was sure she had finished, he said. “It would not be good for an amnesia patien…”
“Damn amnesia!” interrupted Tarix, her voice rising with her anger that was boiling up inside her. “And damn YOU!” With that a force was released from her and Thule was thrown back two feet and landed on the couch behind him.
Calmly he got back up and motioned for Tarix to sit down. Tarix, shocked at what she had done, but still not getting over her anger, reluctantly sat down on the floor, glaring at him.
“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you anything and waited for it to come to you. I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He sighed, and decided it was time to come out in the open. “Your name is Jasmine. Your parents named you that.”
He looked at her, and then continued. “You and your sister were born here, in LA. You were born on the 1st January 1980, a minute after midnight. Your sister, older than you, was born exactly two minutes before you.”
“On the 31st December, 1979.” Tarix said, taking it all in.
“Yes. Your mother thought you both looked like flowers, and named you after her favorite. The Jasmine.” Thule walked towards the balcony window and stood there, facing it, a smile on his face at the memories. “Yes, she wanted to name you both Jasmine, but your father wouldn't hear of it. Twins, both with the same name is not logical. So you were christened Jasmine, while your sister was christened Jessamine.”
“Jessy,” Tarix echoed, and Thule turned to her. “That’s what that person called me last night, Jessy. She’s here Thule. You think she’s looking for me?”
Thule looked at the ground, deep in his thinking again. Finally he said, “I think it would be better if you avoid her. If you see her just turn away. It is for your only good.”
“What?” Tarix stood back up, aghast. “Wait a minute, you want me to stay away from my own sister? Why? Because you are hiding something from me. I know it. And you think that if I get to her I’ll find out, don’t you?” Thule said nothing. “ANWSER ME!”
“It is better that you do not ask me again, for if I tell you it will hurt you more then you can imagine.” Thule started to walk towards the door. “Meanwhile, I’ll leave you and let you cool down.”
Thule opened the door, turned around to look back at Tarix, her back towards him, sighed and started to walk out.
“You are not going anywhere,” was her reply, and the door slammed in front of Thule before he could step out. Before he could do anything the key in the lock turned by itself and then flew towards Tarix, into her outstretched palm. “Not till I get answers.” Tarix was glaring at Thule.
Thule didn’t seem to be intimidated, but seemed to back off slightly. “Look Tarix…”
“There is nothing to ‘look Tarix’, nothing to see and nothing to say other than why I should not see my only sister.”
There was a few moments' silence, but the air seemed to be thick with tension. Finally he gave up.
“You sure you can handle this?”
“Try me,” she said, not taking he eyes off him.
“Fine. Did I tell you how your parents were killed?” Without waiting for her to answer he continued, “They had been stabbed, repeatedly. You see, when your father worked here, he knew he was in danger, because your mother was a Koolang. So he left to hide in New York. All seemed fine, until one day your father phoned me.
“I didn’t even know he was in New York until he told me. He said he needed my help and that I was to get there immediately. I got there too late. I was the one who found their bodies, and there was no sign of you or Jessamine. I found you here in LA and you know the rest.”
Tarix looked towards the ground. “But what happened to Jessy?” she said quietly.
“The Order, as your father was a member, investigated into their deaths. They got all sorts of telepaths and Shamans and wizards and witches, all so that they could find the trace of who killed them.”
“And?”
“And, it seemed that someone had already retraced their steps. Macabres are known to be possess some knowledge of magic, and I believe they used that knowledge to cover their steps. The Shamans didn’t know who killed them. They couldn’t see anything, except they saw a girl. Moments before the murder they saw her coming into the room, going into the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and that’s it. They saw no more. The rest was blocked.”
Tarix suddenly got the meaning of what Thule said, and her eyes grew in horror. “You think Jessy killed my parents.”